ADDICT
by MaNiQ1
Summary: Damon leads a life, without complication. That is, until Bonnie moves in the house, next door. Neither can grasp normality, because sex is a helluva drug. (BAMON-AH) COMPLETE!
1. TOXIC DEPENDENCY

**Addict**

 **Part 1 - Toxic Dependency**

 **R-M VERY MATURE CONTENT**

 **When I get to an impasse with my writing, I write a bunch of stories on the side. This is one of those stories, Ive already written. It's ALL from Damon's POV. And even though, there is other characters in the story, its about 85-90% BAMON. This story is a short five-part story, involving two people who don't realize, they need each other. It's about sex addiction.**

* * *

The walk from my Beachfront to the ocean is five minutes. I'm a lazy spoiled bastard. I should sit on the beach more often. Instead I kick my feet up on my bed, and stare out at the colossal crashing of waves. They say nature is best reserved for adventurists. People who walk the thin line between life and death. I'm too selfish for death. I'm vain, and narcissistic when it comes to life. Adventurists, live life so fully, that they'd gladly die, being spontaneous.

You know what I'd gladly die doing?

Having sex.

Not just any sex. Mind blowing sex. Out of this word, toes curling, waist gripping, lip biting, back scratching, hair pulling, ass spanking, wrist pinning sex. Maybe two women. Maybe an orgy. It sounds disgusting, and stereotypically basic of me, as a man. I'm well aware, that my primal urges simplify my desirability, to the opposite sex, assuming I'm desensitized to the meaning of it.

I'm not concerned with their meaning. I'm concerned with what it means to me. And what makes, my meaning any less comparable to life's meaning than the people who believe sex should be a sacred and cherished act of love between two people who chose each other... blah, blah, blah bullshit? One meaning, no matter how politically correct, makes it more significant in importance. Just makes some people, behave far more self-righteously.

Outside of my wildly, dissociative behavior in relationships, I'm a regular guy.

Inside of a woman, is where I'll die. Buried, deeply, and collapsed on top of her, from a heart attack, at age sixty-five. I want to die young, so women will always remember me for who I was.

A magnificent fuck. The best fuck. The one they told their friends about.

Am I single?

Well, that depends...

Singular, as opposed to a one half of a monogamous relationship? Yes. Am I ever alone? No. Except on Sundays. Sundays I'm single. Sundays are reserved with negating my responsibilities to the world of adulting, and allowing myself to enjoy the passions, in which keep me sane, outside of sex. Sunrise watching, sunset watching, stargazing, and somewhere in between, dabbling in taking pictures and listening to music.

Sundays are dedicated to the ideas that remind me, there's a human being inside of me, when I'm not using my body to connect with someone. Sundays are the days dedicated to my entire mind. If I ever fuck a woman on Sunday, I've lost my mind, and probably all free will.

 _ **...**_

 _ **Therapy Session**_

 _ **...**_

"Mr. Salvatore, how has your social life been this week?"

Sitting on the couch across from his therapist, he pondered that question in its entirety. White colored walls, cream colored blinds. Deep blue couch and pillows just a drab as the rest of the neatly propped office. "It's been fine."

"Just, fine?"

"Well yeah. It was a slow week. I went to the studio several times and developed film. You know, I always love that." He paused for a few seconds. "Outside of work, I went to several functions."

"And how were those functions?"

"Same as every day. A lot of my associates were there. I had some drinks, some laughs."

"Did you take anyone home with you?" I thought back to the beautiful long-haired brunette. The one with olive-toned skin, and a flirty disposition. Whose name, I can't remember.

"Of course, Doc. Come on. This is me. I take a woman home nearly every night. Well, there was one woman I slept with a few times. But, I'd say we had... amazing chemistry."

The therapist nodded looking at him. He hated when she nodded, and took notes. He tilted his head, twitched his notes and bit his lip. "What makes you say, you had amazing chemistry?"

"From the moment we met, we were really flirty. She read my vibes right away. And because of that, she put those same vibes out there. Anyone, could probably feel the heat between us."

"Wow. That sounds electric. How do you feel your connection with her varies, from other women?"

"I don't know. She gets it, I guess. She doesn't try to stick around in the morning. She leaves on her own. Our time together is quite easy. No complications. This is what I look for in women. Easy. Which is hard to find?"

"Easy? In terms of sexuality?"

"No. In terms of, understanding that it's not about commitment. But, in the right situation, I'd be okay with having a woman around regularly. If she can remember to leave my house. The issue I've had with women, is they think, that by being clingy, I'd want them to stick around. Which is untrue."

"What's the worst thing about having a woman around more often? Still fearing commitment?"

"I don't fear commitment. I don't want commitment. I can't be that guy, you rely on, or that guy who understands what you're going through, I can't develop that emotional connection, that women need."

"What about with this woman? Is there an emotional connection?"

"No. She gets me. She like the female version of me."

"And this makes you comfortable?"

"It does. It makes it manageable."

"Okay, I'm gonna send you home with a special task this week. I'd like to see you hang out with this girl again. I'd like to see, if after a week, you can still find the connection. This is a good sign for you."

"I think it makes it intentional now. I mean, the last three times were pure coincidence. This time, it's like you want me to search for her."

"Well, don't search. If you see her again, I would like you to actively seek her out for another hang out."

"I don't hang out, Doc. We have sex, and that's it."

"Well, whatever happens naturally between you two. Just let it happen."

Damon couldn't comprehend the idea of having to initiate something, and yet, letting it remain natural. He left the therapists office with those thoughts, and drove back home. Today was one of those days, he couldn't understand his life. He knew what he had, he was grateful, but he was definitely filling a void somewhere. But he couldn't figure it out, alone. And hopefully, with the help of his therapist, he was on his way to understanding himself better.

 **...**

Sundays are peaceful. Almost serene. I hate the cliché of it, but it's the truth. The wooden floor beneath my feet, hollows with every step. Hollows like the beating in my chest. The hollow has a feel. It's a thump surrounded by emptiness. Emptiness surrounds, the thump... hollow is the beating in my chest, and the feel of the wooden floor beneath my feet.

After hours of allowing the silence to calm me, I finally let a sound preference sink into my brain. Today, I want to hear The Doors. I imagine, my muse today is a bit of whimsical one. Something more delicate, but retro, light, and mentally... affluent to my restraint. No restraints today.

Today the sun comes and goes. A zoo of clouds infiltrates the sky. I swear every shape is that of a sheep, or pig. Clouds live among us, in the sky, talking to each other. Animals playing on a farm. The wide open, space of the sky is perfect.

After a few hours of being completely unproductive, I walk outside and take my camera. I wanted pictures of the sky. The beauty of clouds, is the sky never stays the same. The clouds move and change throughout, so the look of the sky changes. If it weren't for the clouds, the sky would remain one way, always.

I feel like the sky.

I'm the sky, and women are my clouds. None, stick around long enough to change me, which is good, because love shouldn't change a person. Love should embrace what is real and honest, and keep it from being tainted by the ideas that society instills in our heads that it's perfect, and forgiving, and should buy you a dozen rose three times a year, and make sure that you have sex only on special occasions, and once a week. No, the idea people have of love, is the very core of what's wrong with it. Marriage, leads to unhappiness, bitterness, anger, and lack of sex.

But, we can live inside of the type of love, that accepts us always. The new love. The one-night stand love. The type of love, where no one has an opportunity to find a flaw, and try to force you to change. Love yourself, and it shouldn't matter if you're in love with someone else, for the rest of your life. It's easier to have many, and remain in like, than to love one, and question yourself forever.

I just want, what's easy.

And my life, tends to be easy, and peaceful. Especially on Sundays. But today, is different. Someone is moving into the rental property next door. I hate the owner, who continues to rent this beautiful property out to people who just want to come and party. Although, completely complaining would be a waste. I've had some interesting one-night stands that come out of this horrible rental agreement the owner has with these rich assholes.

I look next door, and this is no different. Wealthy people moving in. Both cars are expensive. And I'm staring too hard, so I move behind a large bush that's between our properties. I don't see a man. I see professional movers. That's all. Where are the renters? It takes a while before a woman pops in to view. Although not a very clear view. She's, short. She has brown skin, her hair in a bun and sunglasses. She's carrying some of her own things inside; that's a first.

Sometimes, I notice things about women that I find simply, irresistible. Women who wear their hair in buns. Not just, any fancy bun. No. The messy buns. The type of bun, where she has an agenda, and her hair is the last thing on her mind, bun. Those are the buns that I can appreciate. Then a woman who wears the kind of shirts that one sleeve falls off her shoulder. It's almost a beautiful, imperfection.

But, since its becomes a style as of late, it's not as attractive as it used to be. But, I guess when you pair it with a woman, wearing a messy bun, who keeps blowing her hair out of her face, no matter how much it falls into her eyes, I find to be one of those untouchable rare moments. It's kind of sexy. Somehow, my hand naturally lifts the camera and I begin taking pictures of her. She was fascinating to me. There was no particular, rhyme or reason, except, I needed to capture this moment. Her exhaustion, her sweat, her naturalness.

Eventually, she realized she needed a break. She sat on the stairway leading up to the porch. Legs bent and open, and her elbows propped up onto her knees. She sat there awhile, focused on nothing at all. And it almost looked like she needed that.

I decided to quit stalking her, before she got the wrong idea.

She definitely gave me Sunday inspiration.

 ** _..._**

 ** _Thursday Night_**

 ** _..._**

Remembering what the therapist said, I decided to approach her again. The woman I'd spent three recent sleepless nights with. It's actually uncomfortable, having to approach someone this way. Especially after having slept together. I hate the idea that she may read much more into this, than I anticipate. Wrong choice of words, because I'm not anticipating anything out of this. But, if she's expecting more, then it's my job to let her know, it's nothing more than casual sex. When I walk up behind her, I couldn't be more cliche. "Hey stranger."

She turned towards me, and smiled. "Hey you. Long time no see." Oh shit.

"Yeah. Well, a week. Not so long." I admitted like a dick. It wasn't my intention, just the way it came out. She gave me a cautious look and I had to break the ice. "But it's nice to see you again." Her smile returned, when I cleaned up after myself.

"Yes, it is. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Nothing. I saw you from across the room, and wanted to say hi."

"These get togethers are uncomfortable sometimes, right? I mean, everyone gathers around, drinks, and for what? So, we can just go home with someone at night's end?"

"Is that the purpose of these things?" I mean sure it seems this way, but coming from her, I'm surprised. "I've met a lot of business acquaintances this way."

"Listen, all I'm saying, is let's cut to the chase. We don't have to stay here and wait. Let's just go back to your place, and do what we both want to do." I nearly swallowed the lime wedge in my beer, listening to her. And I felt like no man to argue. So, I up, and obliged. She wants one thing, and so do I.

"Let's get out of here." I held my arm out and she grabbed it and we left within an hour, and that was that. My therapist would be so proud. I took home he woman with long brown hair, olive skin and a flirty disposition after approaching her honestly. But I'll be damned, I still don't know her name.

 **...**

We arrive at my house. And I'm following her up my stairway to the front door. "So, we walk up your doorstep for the fourth time in two weeks." As she speaks, I notice a light on in my new neighbor's house. I see no one walking around in the mostly glass house, but for some reason, the lights are on. I try not to focus on that, because I have a beautiful woman next to me. But for some reason it's distracting. Suddenly her fingers were snapping in front of my face. "Hello. Hey what are you looking at?"

"Oh. Nothing. Just, a new neighbor. The lights are on and I didn't see anyone. Just making sure things were okay."

"Well, hopefully I can manage to distract you." She smiled, and allowed her lips to casually meet mine mid air, and kiss me. She really is beautiful. Beautiful enough to be focused on; and sadly, unable to distract me from the neighbor's lights being on. Our houses aren't all that close. But close enough to notice the lights on. I still don't know who she lives with. As my lips separate from the woman before me, she closes the space between us whispering in my ear. "Come on, let's go inside." Her tongue, plowed into my throat, and she forced me to focus on her.

Who am I to turn her down?

We stumble into my house, because she's suddenly attached to me from the shoulders down. Our bodies are connected, and she's ready for me. She's taking her shirt off before I can make a move. Her lips are all over my face, and sometimes I hate that. If your going to kiss a man's face, do it right. Don't just get your slobber all over it. Kiss it from place to place.

Ah well, she's here, she's almost naked, and I'm ready to be inside of her, as soon as I get this condom on. I don't even feel like getting naked, a simple unbuckle and drop of the pants will work. I'll bend her over my counter top in my kitchen, because we don't make it into the bedroom. I love the feeling this gives me. My hand slides up her back and into her hair, pulling her back towards me. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, yes. Fuck me. Please. I want you so bad." Those are the words S he whispers into my cheek while I get myself ready to enter her. My dick is hard, and it's ready and right at the back of her entrance, tipping her warmth. I ease into her slowly. "Ohhh, ohhh yesss." She licks her lips, and that turns me on to the point, that the high I get, is from that first initial feeling. The feeling of my dick moving into her. Where her pussy swallows me, every time I pull my dick out of the cold air, she sucks me back into her heat. This is the feeling I live for. And even better, I'm facing a large ocean front view. The moonlight, the black sky, and the faded horizon, where the water blends into the endless night.

At a moments notice, she was screaming. "Fuck me, fuck me." I was fucking her, hard and good, and I was into it.

Then, out of nowhere, I look out of the window, and there she was, a beautiful, curvy-bodied woman, walking out of the water, in the darkness. Only thing lighting her way, was the moon in the sky, and the light from her house. She pushed her wet hair back out of her face. The hair she had in a messy bun just a few days ago. She wasn't wearing anything. Her naked body was dripping in salt water and her skin looked like an edible version of a painting, I'd never seen before. I can't take my eyes off of her, the whole way she's lit by the sky, as she walks back to her house. The eroticism of it all, turned me on, in a corner of my mind that had never been reached before. I don't even remember what I was doing a second ago. Suddenly, I got this tightening in my stomach, and my balls, and for the first time, in forever, I came from sex I don't remember having.

I didn't bother knowing if he woman I was fucking had cum, because I came so hard, I was out of it. Loss of breath and almost consciousness.

"Oh my God. Did you cum?"

"Fuck, I'm sorry. It hit me out of no where."

"Wow, okay."

"Fuck, that's never happened to me before."

"It's okay." I could hear disappointment, in her. So, I turned her over, picked her up lay her on my cabinet and finished her with my mouth. Not my preferred method of finishing a woman, but, I have a reputation. And I'm not, going to let her leave here, without feeling satisfied. Once my tongue reached her, she's still so sensitive, that she starts bucking like crazy. Feeling her muscles fight me, was one of those feelings I lived for. "Oh my, God. Yes, right there."

I tongue fucked her soft and deep. And at the moment all I could imagine is, I was tasting the pussy of the woman outside. I had no control over my thoughts, while I ate her like a snack. She came quicker, then I did, and when she finally calmed, she could hardly stay awake. But after what I saw outside, I was in no mood for a slumber party.

But, I couldn't just take her home. It would be tasteless. So, I let her sleep in my bed. I, of course, couldn't sleep. That image wouldn't escape my mind, and it held me prisoner for days. I'd walked out side that night to get some air, and I saw her in her house, alone. No one else. She just, sat alone, reading a book.

I'm absolutely taken by this, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

 **...**

The following morning, I was still bemused by the midnight woman, when a petite sounding voice breaks my concentration. "Hey stranger, it felt like you never came to bed." I already couldn't handle the way she took possession over my bed with that sentence. As if it was our bed. I can help but to feel at fault for this. The therapist tasked me with something that made me come off as misleading. But, I can except that at eight in the morning she's up, and hopefully she can understand my sudden need to take her home.

"Sorry. I realized I had a deadline for a project today, and I ended up staying up all night trying to complete it. I apologize if you're upset."

"No, I'm not upset. I would have loved to cuddle some. But, upset? No." She stares blankly at me. It's weird, because, she's a really nice girl, and I can't find a reason to be annoyed with her, long enough to never see her again. Even though, I should just... never see her again, there's this sudden connection I've built with her over the past four sexual encounters. Nothing intimate, just enough to not have to go out and find a random woman, to bring back tomorrow. She's become, an acquaintance. I don't want this connection to exist, because, it means we will rely on each other physically.

I don't want to be relied on. I don't want to rely on anybody.

I trusted my therapist, and this is what happened. "So, I should probably take you home. I'm sure you have to get your day started, too."

"I actually have a pretty drab day ahead of me. I was relieved to wake up at your place and not mine."

Oh no. Please don't let this be happening. "Really?" I half smirked, but was unamused. I see what she's doing. I'm going to pretend it was subtle enough not to notice. Im going to move forward, and continue pretending to have things to do. Technically I should be at the studio today developing some film for a project. But, my mind doesn't want to force me to lie right now, and I'm annoyed with myself, because I can't stop myself before I say, "Feel free to hang out a while. I guess I don't have to leave for a couple more hours. I can take you home then."

The way her face lit up, disappointed me. Suddenly, sex with this woman is no longer nearly as desirable. She's suddenly too available, and that is such a turn off. But I can't stop myself from being nice for whatever reason; my betraying mouth, defies my brain. "Awesome, I can make us. Breakfast, if you'd like." She smiled sweetly, but not sweet enough to erase my annoyance.

"That'd be great. How about omelets?"

"Sure. Where are your eggs?"

"Fridge, in the top drawer."

"What do you like in your omelets?"

"I like anything really. Whatever you find in there, is fine." I'm so fucked letting her make herself comfortable in my house.

"Okay. I'm a vegetarian, if that's okay."

"I have no preference." I remind her, still swallowing my disappointment in myself, like upchucked vomit. I then quietly walked to my liquor cabinet and poured myself a glass of bourbon. How could I not have? I needed to stomach the pretend girlfriend for a day vibe happening right now. The glass in my hand was rescuing me in these very moments. From both headache and earache. I could hear her start to sing, and it bothered me.

Call me an asshole, but don't judge me. We all strive for different forms of acceptance in this life. Mine happens to be self acceptance. Not love.

My liquor cabinet is in my living room. The room which a large window, like my bedroom, faces the beach and the monstrous water hole, we call an ocean. Today, the sun decides to hide behind the clouds again. It was causing a tango in the waves, and when that happens I can't help but to stare, and lose myself in the beauty of it.

I'm good at staring into the wilderness that is the ocean, and can do so unbothered, and undistracted. Even with her singing, off key and cracking open eggs in my kitchen. I was beginning to find all of the life being sucked out of my morning, until I saw... Her... Again.

Fifty feet away from her house, walking further from it, until she found a place directly between her place and the shorelines place. She sat, with her hair in a ponytail, and one of those off the shoulder sweaters. The color was, such a pale shade of purple it almost looked white. And a long skirt. She was barefoot, and she sat with her legs crossed and her knees bent upwards, with her feet buried in the sand.

I don't know why I'm studying her movements, and body placement. I guess I find it rare a woman is so disconnected with life, and so connected with her own serenity. It's almost like she's all that exists in her world. I have yet to see anyone else on the property, but her. I keep waiting for the day, some man is going to make his presence known. I can't imagine, a woman like that is single, as bad as it sounds coming from my mouth, she appears to be a rare find. But if she does have someone in her life, it seems he's not quite the protective type. She's been alone for four days.

What if that's it? What if her husband died, or she lost someone, and she's alone, because she's coping. Then, I'm some over-zealous neighbor, being overly watchful and a borderline stalker.

"Hey!" She came into my room and nearly scared me, with the way she crept up behind me. I guess my stalker tendencies got the best of me. When my own stalker reminded me, she was here still. I jumped a little.

"Oh, hey." How annoying.

"Oh wow." She laughed at my expense. "Did I scare you?"

"Not so much as you made me forget I wasn't home alone. I'm not used to being here with anyone."

"Aww. That's sad. Maybe you should have company more often."

"It actually doesn't bother me. I work better when I'm alone." I can be a dick sometimes.

"Oh okay. I get that. I guess the important thing is knowing you have someone, if you need them." She couldn't be more obvious, and I'm going to kill my therapist. "So, I'm always here, just so you know."

"Well, I appreciate that." The cleverest gratuity I could give her.

"You're omelet is done."

"Okay, thanks. I'll be there in just a second." I offer another smile, and as soon as she disappears, I turn my attention to the gypsy woman outside. Her sweater doubles as Kleenex, when I find her wiping her eyes. I'm not sure if she was crying, if it was allergies, or perhaps it was a typical eye rub. But for a few minutes, she did it every few seconds. My soul felt somewhat touched by hers. It's as if hers was reaching out and mine, was trying to grab hers. But, alas... an off-key singing sound broke me from my concentration, and I headed towards my kitchen.

One hour later, and a poorly made omelette, that I shouldn't complain about, but I will anyways because I'm an asshole; and I'll say it was still worth a try, and it got her a pat on the back, and one more orgasm, I had to take her the fuck home. The orgasm she received was my attempt to stop eating the burnt omelette she made. I turned my attentiveness to her body so I didn't have to be rude, when I decided not to finish it. I won't say it was deliberately burned. Some people like browning the egg on their omelettes on the outside. I, for one, am not one of those people. I thanked her my way, and took her back to her car.

After I drop her off, I sigh. With the exception, of the moment of connecting to the tears of a woman I'd never met... this morning was a got damn disaster. For me it was a mental disaster. I blame my therapist and I will be telling her, in the next visit.

 **...**

I got home and didn't see a point in dwelling on the morning for the rest of the day. As I walk up the stairs, to my front door I hear a dog barking on the beach side. I get into my house and walk towards the living room, and who do I find outside of my window? The woman in question playing fetch with her dog. I still have a hard time seeing her face. But she has a huge smile. Really captivating. I grab my camera.

I feel like a fucking stalker, I swear. I honestly, think, this is borderline stalker behavior, but she's really an uncontrolled muse, to my camera. I walked up to the window and tried to stay behind one of my bushes, through my glass. The glare is killing me though. Suddenly a frisbee hits my glass, and I'm fucking embarrassed because if she saw me holding this camera directed at her, I'm about to fucking cut my own dick off and hand it to her. I quickly put the camera down, and look at the frisbee. She looks over at my back porch, and I look back up at her. Why am I in the window? That's probably what she's wondering. How can I clean this mess up without looking bad? Quick, Damon, think. Think." She is walking towards my porch and I lost the dog all together. I open the sliding door and grab the frisbee. The closer she gets the more nervous I actually am. All I can think of quickly, is to throw the frisbee back before she comes all the way over here.

I threw it.

Horribly. I'm not a great frisbee thrower. I had no idea there was some focus necessary in throwing that thing. While I'm sitting there beating myself up, about throwing the frisbee like a jack ass, I hear a faint, "Sorry 'bout that. Thanks." She apologized, and thanked me and went back to playing. I was so stuck in my embarrassment I said nothing in return. I walked inside and closed my door. I didn't take another picture that day.

 **...**

I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm worried I'm going to see burnt eggs girl at the functions. We seem to be entangled in the same crowds, and I'm better off keeping my dick to myself tonight. For the life of me, I never ask her name. Women, can try seducing me, and I'll let them, and sometimes my strongest fight, is not having to put up one.

I lay on my couch watching a movie on Netflix. It wasn't particularly interesting because I can't keep up with the plot. Every few minutes my mind wonders to various things happening in my life at the moment. It's all the things I could want in my career. I'm surrounded by decent people. I don't have any particular drama. So, why do I lay here feeling like there's still some purpose I'm not fulfilling?

I just turn the tv off, and get up and walk through the dark to my room. I left my cell phone on my nightstand, and I realize it's lighting up as a head closer to my bed. Several phone calls missed and a couple texts. I look at the unknown number. When I check my text... fuck! Did I give her my phone number?

 **Hey thought you'd be here tonight.**

 **Kind of boring without you.**

 **Want to come to my place tonight?**

I ignore every single one of those messages. I knew who it was. Sadly, I do not know her name. I know she told me day one, but I can't remember it. It started with an I or an L... maybe an N, but I'm not sure. I think I need to shut my eyes and sleep, and I turn my attention to the crashing waves, to put me to sleep.

And I realize God is punishing me. Somehow, someway.

This woman is once again outside, naked. This is very illegal. Public nudity. Technically, this is a private beach, but when several houses, although spread out, share this space, it's kind of indecent and rude as fuck. You can't just go running around naked, like this. Sans the running around.

She's just in the water. From here, I can barely see her silhouette. But I have a good enough eye to know she's naked, because I can see her erect nipples from here. No matter how far I am, I see it, and the universe hates me, for aligning the stars and the moon in such a way where two hundred yards away I can see a woman's naked body in the dark. I want to run out there, and tell her to put some clothes on. Does she have any idea what it does to a man, to see a woman out there, so naked and free? No matter how dark it is, it's really not dark enough, because my dick is hard. My fucking dick, is hard as a rock.

"Ahhh." I yell into my pillow, and it's not enough. I remember her from the other night. Naked! I remember her messy bun, and her off the shoulder sweaters. She spoke to me for a second apologizing and thanking me. None of which was a big deal. Unless you're a man like me, who is tortured by this woman. One fucking week!

Her smile.

The pillow hears me cry again, in the form of a low pitch scream. I sit up, and my dick won't budge. He's used to fucking something six nights a week. Tonight, I stayed home.

You see, I'm more anti-commitment than I am pro sex, because I stayed home to avoid some definite pussy, out of fear, she'd want more from me. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I whisper to myself. "I can call this girl, or I can take a cold shower. "Hmmm. Definite fuck? Or suck it the fuck up?"

I feel like crying right now. I walk to my bathroom, and turn the cold water on, in my drop-down shower head. I basically jump in the fucking water and let the icy water hit my body. My dick is gonna go down. It's going to go down. I tell myself.

I look down. "Fuck! FUUUUUUUCK!" I scream at it. "Go down you son-of-a-bitch." Ten minutes in the cold water and nothing. I'm gonna have to jerk it out. I'm not big on jerking off. I mean, it's so... not a pussy. I can jerk off. I have plenty of visual, to do it. Just concentrate Damon. Concentrate. I turn the water to hot, and close my eyes. I try to picture burnt eggs girl with the long brown hair. What do I call her? She's technically nameless right now. I remember the first time I saw her, and brought her back to my place. She was so, so... needy for my cock. She wanted it so bad she sucked it for like ten minutes. Oh fuck. I remember her mouth on my dick. I loved it when she stroked it, and sucked it. She wasn't much of a deep throater, but where she lacked in deep throating, she made up for in jerking and sucking simultaneously. My mind concentrates hard on the visual. As soon as we made it in my place, she pushed me against the wall, and unbuckled my pants, yanking them down my legs, she took it wildly. She just... she sucked it, like she was crazy. I don't remember if she was good at it, I just remembered her wanting it, and the thought of that was enough make me focus on jerking my dick.

But for ten minutes I jerked and nothing. Nothing was happening. "Why? Huh! Why?" I couldn't take it, I got out of my shower, and walked to my bed, and lay there. My dick not letting the sheets fall to my body, as it held them up. That's kind of irritating, so I uncovered my body. I looked out to the beach, maybe her body would do the trick. Maybe I could just, look at her and jerk my dick to the image. But she was gone.

I don't want to call eggs girl, I really don't, but... Fuck it.

 **...**

I was at her house in no time. The moment she opened the door, she greeted my wi lip gloss on her dick sucking lips. "Hey. I was hoping you'd call." She's a pretty girl. Maybe I have her all wrong. A two am call means one thing. She wants sex. And that's it. Right?

I look her dead in the nose bridge. Not the eyes, the nose bridge. "Yeah, I'm here. You miss me?" And that's me following every lousy man cliche. This is really fucked up. Let me admit. But if she is calling at two am for sex, I don't feel bad, because it means we want the same thing. I just don't want anything more than sex with her.

"Yes. Please, come in." I thought that was a given. Plus my dick is still hard don't make me stand outside with a hard dick. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Umm, at two in the morning?"

"I guess kind of silly, right. Come on." She pulled me into her bedroom, she had a tall bed. That's all I remembered, because when I lifted her body to it, her pussy was at the perfect alignment to my dick. My lips were finding hers almost right away. "Oh my, you got hard very fast." She smiled. All I wanted to do was end this. Fuck her and go back home to sleep. _I'm only here, because my neighbor got my dick hard, swimming naked, and I won't go down,_ is what I was screaming in my head. I opened her legs, and pushed inside of her quickly.

"Oohhh fuck. Yes. This is what I needed. Fuck, your so wet."

"Yeah. I'm wet for you baby. I've been thinking about you all day." I didn't want to hear that, but I had to play the part, my dick was finally inside of her pussy and I just wanted this.

"Yeah, you missed my dick?"

"No, you I missed you." Her kisses were really lingering and I opened my eyes confused, and she was really into it. I tried hard not to let it distract me. But she was doing the relationship thing. I need to block her out, so I stop talking. "I told my girlfriends, how much we connected, and I realized, how our sex is so good and it's because we connect. It's our chemistry."

Fuck. That's the word I told my therapist. Chemistry. Fuck. I was wrong, so wrong. And suddenly I get it, I get why the therapist had me do this. "Shhh. Don't talk, just take this dick."

"Okay. Okay. Oh yeah. You're dick fits me so good."

"Shhhhh. Let me fuck you so good you fall asleep. Let me fuck your brains out, and make you cum."

"Okay, baby. Okay, make me cum." She started to moan erratically and I'm focused on my dick. I'm focused so hard on everything. Her breasts, her pussy. And somehow it's not enough. My dick is hard, but nothing is happening. Her pussy doesn't even feel the same. I don't know why. But we go at it for about twenty minutes. A little kissing, and she spoke here and there. But the more I focused on her moans, the easier it was to distract myself from everything else. "Oh God, baby, I'm coming, make me cum, please, make me cum."

"Yeah, cum on my dick... cum all over me." At this point I just need her to cum. I can't do this anymore.

"I want you to cum with me though. I want to feel you cum."

"I'm wearing a condom."

"Take it off. Cum inside of me, spill your cum inside of me."

"Holy shit." That worked, that was turning me on. I was feeling the way I was supposed to feel again. Until...

"Put your babies inside of me."

Halt.

As she came, my dick went limp, finally. And I couldn't cum. This girl did a one-eighty in my mind, and I was so done. I don't know if she was serious, or drunk. But I was happy that she came so hard, she fell asleep. And I nicely put her under her blankets, then headed out. But before I head out I try to figure out her name. I look for anything with her name on it. I didn't see anything. Until I found a subscription to **Happy Bride** magazine, and **Dream Gowns** magazine. Oh shit, I've done photo shoots and spreads for both magazines. Back when I first started, years ago. Fuck. And they were actual subscriptions. Because there, plain as day on these magazines, was the name _Elena Gilbert._

The magazines were in her living room. That's all the snooping I did. I quietly left her place, locking it on my way out.

 **...**

Saturday afternoon, I thought I'd dodged a bullet. I missed the studio twice this week, so Saturday was a good day for me to head out. Get my mind off of the girl I keep fucking, and the woman next door, who almost gave me blue balls last night. I walk out with my film, in tow, and sunglasses. The sun decided to come from behind the clouds today. I had to predetermine the length of time I'd be gone today, so I could come home and get ready for another function this evening. This time, I had to be there. I created the frame work for a project, and this charity event was using my photos to illustrate the image they wanted depicted. I'd gone out and taken pictures for a marathon, and one of the magazines that contracts me. The marathon was for the charity event I'm attending. I was specially invited by the chairman. I'm realizing I only have five glorious hours to play with film today. Not enough time, but it'll have to do.

As I walk out, there she is. Midnight witchy woman. I'm convinced she's a witch, and I'm under this awful spell. I can't stop thinking about her, and every time I see her I'm stuck on the image of her living her life, while mine is in pause, waiting for her to disappear, so I can go back to living life, like a normal, sex addicted guy. From the moment she moved next door, my sex life hasn't been the same.

I walk towards my Jeep, and I feel her stand up from her stairwell, and walk towards me. This can't be happening. And I sound like an adolescent boy with a crush, when truly it's more of a disdain for her rearranging my mind with her voodoo. "Hi."

Avoid her. "Oh, hello." I turn towards her, and pause, because she walks towards me. It's a quiet day in the neighborhood, so pretending not to hear her, would literally, have been obvious, and a dick move.

"We haven't met yet. I'm you're new neighbor." She reached her hand out to me, and I took hers in mine shaking it. "I've met everyone else, except you. I rarely see you outside compared to the other neighbors." I couldn't look her in the eye, so I trained my mind to look at her her nose bridge.

"Yeah, sorry. I spend so much time in a dark room, that when I'm outside my eyes are sensitive to the light. Hints the sunglasses."

"That's unfortunate. I've found that that the sun has only made one appearance since I've moved in. What's the sense of living on the beach of the suns rarely out."

"You'd be surprised. This beach sees more cloudy days than sunny ones. You're likely to see me around on heavily overcast days, or rain. I'm outside taking pictures of the waves."

She gave me a peculiar look, then embarrassed me. "Is that what you were doing the other day?"

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you with your camera in the window. When I was playing fetch with Enzo. I saw you in your window with a camera after I accidentally hit your window with his frisbee." Hmm. She really caught me, and I'm collapsing inside of myself, with embarrassment. "Taking pictures of the water?"

"Umm, that day..." I hesitated, "I think I was more focused on the clouds. But, I didn't want to freak you and your dog out, so I stayed inside to take pictures."

"Oh gosh. You can't freak me out. It's your right to be out there as much as mine." I'm go from looking at her nose bridges her forehead. She's tiny, like five feet. She's wearing reading glasses so I can barely see her eyes over the suns glare. But I took a quick glance at her lips. They were heart-shaped and perfect. "So, if I see you outside, don't be a stranger." She smiled.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind." There goes that dick thing again, I have this tendency sound like a dick, when it's just how the words come out.

"Well, you seem busy, so, I'll quit being a distraction. I just wanted to introduce myself." She raised her glasses and I swear she had colored eyes but my sunglasses wouldn't allow me to notice, because before I could look hard enough, I hear a loud car beeping from around the corner. I tried to ignore it to hear her more clearly, "I'm Bonnie, by the way." Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie. It's different. You don't hear that name too often. Her name is kind of pretty.

"I'm Damon."

She smiled, and suddenly, the beeping car drove right in front of us, not parking in any particular direction, just stopped mid driving, I could tell the car was put in park, before the person took their foot of the gas, because I heard the gears screech. It fucking killed my ears. I look up and what the fuck is this? FUCKING bridezilla.

"Seriously, lover. Leave without so much as a kiss a hug, a good bye? You just come over fuck me, and leave?"

"Whoa... calm down."

"NO! You clam down. I text you last night, straight from the event, and you were literally still awake, obvs. Because you returned my call about an hour or two later."

"Obvs?" I'm confused at this word.

"Means _Obviously_! Dick hold."

"Can we talk about this after I get back-"

"No, ass. I literally thought we had something..." and she's going on and on, and all the while Bonnie is still two feet away from me, "You're such an asshole." Bonnie smiled, and politely and quietly turned and walked away while this girl, just proceeded to embarrass me, with her brig red Mustang glaring harshly from the sun. I grab her by the arms and shake her. I don't even know if Bonnie realizes I'm shaking her, but I don't care right now.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I knew at this moment, this girl was a no go. But to my unsurprising, surprise, she kept yelling.

"You're a dick!" I couldn't handle her ruining my chakra, so I grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her up the stairs and into the house. She was acting out like a spoiled girlfriend, and this is what I can't handle about women. "Let me go." She yelled with pouty lips. I feel where this is going, and although I'm disturbed and angry, I'd be lying if I didn't say I didn't want to fuck her and shut her up right now. "You asshole, I hate-" shut her up with a kiss, and I pulled her panties down. You know, she came over here starting a fight in a dress, so this would happen. "Stop don't touch me." She pushed me and ran towards the window, facing the ocean. I'm not understanding her need to raise the hair on my arm, or the top corner of my lip, into a hiss. But she stood there on the other side of her room.

"Why are you here?"

"You owe me an apology."

"How is that? I'm not exactly your boyfriend?"

"Really? Then what do you call what's we've been doing for the past almost two weeks. Sex five times... come on! If I was just a hook up it wouldn't have happened more than once." I shake my head and look at her like she's twelve.

"I literally have shit to do, so..." she started undressing, and I had to bite my lip, and think, was this fuck worth it? Would it be worth it to fuck her, after all of this? Well, you should understand man logic, isn't always logic. It's dick logic. And, unfortunately, what I'm about to do, is a pretty regrettable, and disgusting act of misogynistic fuckery, that makes me just as flawed as the next guy. And for the record, I refuse to always be this guy, but she is making this difficult, for my jilted willpower to deny this opportunity to de-stress.

"Come make it better." Her clothes are on the floor, and she's in front of my window naked.

"And how do you suppose I do that?"

"Fuck me in front of this window." I looked at her long and hard, and walk over to her naked body, and I contemplate my whole life as she perpetuated this entire situation. Calculated, marriage-obsessed, bitch. Although, my near blue balls experience, thanks to my skinny dipping neighbor, is what really started it all.

So, why not?

As I stand in front of her, she stares at me like she's afraid. She's into role play. I can see that. She wants me to be rough with her. So be it. "Get on your knees. It ain't gonna suck itself."

This was one of those things I couldn't control about myself. The need for sex, all the time. A woman can piss me off, but if she's ready, I almost can't deny it. She did what she does, to get me hard, and then I fuck her standing up. Right in front of the window. She goes crazy mid air, and I slam her against the window. Pants around my ankles, the sweat dripping from my shirt, and my white ass exposed for the entire universe. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I didn't even hold her body. I put both hands against the glass and made her ride my dick. She was loud enough I didn't want to make her louder. Then before I came, I pulled her off, and shot my hot cum onto her stomach. I'm not worried about sounding sexy when I describe it that way either, because I know it was disgusting. It was a simple exchange of fluids, and some dick riding.

I need to go develop some film now. I pull my pants up, and she finally calms down.

"I can only imagine what your neighbor thinks of us. She just saw us fucking from the beach. Or at least I assume. She's playing fetch with her dog."

"What?" I was confused. I turned to look, because I was so focused on this woman's breast bouncing up and down, I didn't look outside while I fucked her. But, there you have it. She's playing fetch with Enzo. Why do I remember her dogs stupid name?

"Well, I guess she can literally, stop flirting with you now."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I pulled up, she was clearly flirting with you."

"She wasn't flirting. We just met half hour ago, and you rudely interrupted us."

"Hmmm."

"Is that what this is about? You gave that scene, because I was talking to my neighbor? You do understand, what we have, is just sex, right? I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but, I don't want a relationship. At all."

"What, you don't want a girlfriend?"

"I don't."

"Then what are we?"

"Nothing. It was sex. Can you clean your stomach off?" She grabbed her dress and panties, and then walked to me, grabbed my shirt, and wiped her stomach with the shirt I was wearing. "I have nothing against you, but I don't need to have a relationship with anyone."

"Then what? You just want a fuck buddy?"

"Fuck buddy? I don't need anything permanent?"

"Sex, that's it."

"I don't need a sex partner." He tried to make it very clear, in the nicest way. "You should go. I'm behind schedule as it is." I waited patiently for her to get dressed and walked her out. I don't feel like an asshole. I feel like, I've tried to be polite more than once. And yes, I've come back twice since. But I need to work on this sex thing. It's a complete struggle for me internally.

 **...**

When I saw her later that night at the charity event I went to, she pretended not to know me. She is a great actress. She was there with someone else. I don't know who he is. I'm not sure who he is in the community, I'm not sure if he's her boyfriend or husband. Either way, she acted as if we didn't have sex just a few hours ago.

Why do I find it sexy that she's ignoring me now? Can someone explain, why men are idiots?

I wait a few minutes until she walks to the bathroom. When I catch up to her, I grab her by the arm. "What the hell are you doing at this event?"

"This is a free country."

"Funny. You play a lot of head games."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Its fine. I get it. You're trying to make me jealous. Newsflash. We aren't together. So, it's not working."

"Good. Because when I leave here tonight, he's the one I'll be fucking. Him. Not you. And when we fuck, I hope you're at home remembering how I good sucked your dick."

"No. I'll remember how, I faked an orgasm with you last night, because when I was hard, and went to your house, my dick was like that for another woman. Somehow, you still couldn't do it for me. So, I got you off, while I faked it. And I left, because I'm not after anything from you but sex. And now, that I know you have another dick, to ride, I can leave in peace, knowing you have no reason to stalk me again."

"Fuck you, shit for brains. You're not even that good at eating pussy."

"News flash, I never ate your pussy."

"Well, no wonder I can't remember it. You didn't do it. Even though I sucked your dick. You're a selfish lover. You make it all about you. And I'm not even mad, that this is over."

"There was no "THIS" to begin with." I almost hissed at her the way it came out. She was really irritating me. She sounded like a brat, and I literally wanted to shake her.

"Fuck you. You came for me the fourth time, and approached me. How is that my fault? You made me believe, you liked me?"

"I said hi, and then you basically asked to go back to my place to fuck. Then you told me to put my babies inside of you. These are facts. I kept allowing us to have sex, under the assumption, you got it. I never, from day one made you believe I wanted more than sex. I was honest. You came back twice after that."

"And now, I'm here with a new dick to ride. So-"

"I don't care about this guy. But, I find it funny, that you knew I'd be here tonight. And you showed up on purpose with some other, poor, unknowing sap, and you're sitting here, at an event that I'm apart of, playing mind games. Go home. Stay away from my functions, please."

"You have nerve. I'm not here for you."

"Okay, what is this charity event for?"

"Uhhh, a marathon. Duh."

"What charity hosts the marathon?"

"Seriously?" She didn't know. Precisely. "I don't owe you anything."

"Exactly, and unless, you, yourself are making a donation, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She pulled me by my collar, and whispered with the most maleficent tone not my face like I was puny and worthless.

"You can't stay away, and the minute I show up at your doorstep, you'll be begging me to suck your cock." Then she pushed me and walked away. She left me standing there, and my entire mood was so fucked, now. Thanks to this lunatic.

Six times, we had sex.

Five times more than I should've.

Four times, was when I realized she was crazy.

Three times, is the number before it all went bad.

Twice, is the maximum number of times, you should hook up with someone.

Once, is all you need before expectations start to happen.

I fucked up with her.

I stayed about another hour, then I left. I was irritated, and my drive home, was plagued with both guilt and annoyance. I need to accept part of the blame of what happened between us. There shouldn't be an "us" with me and her. But thanks to my dick, there was an us, temporarily. I drove absurdly fast. I'm surprised I didn't get pulled over. When I pulled up to my place, why am I not surprised she was there? Sitting on my porch.

A marched up the stairs, and she looked at me, with tears in her eyes. "I'm really sorry. I honestly, have no idea why I do the things I do. I just wanted to make you jealous, because I know we have something. I know you feel it when we have sex. We have chemistry and I don't think we should throw it away, because we are both to foolish to see it." Mascara ran down her face, and I'm so annoyed. Am I an asshole for wanting to send her away?

Suddenly, midnight woman's living room light comes on, catching my periphery. I look at my cell phone and I notice the time.

Clockwork. Same time every time. I finally see her walk out of her back porch with a towel wrapped around her body, and she heads out onto the beach. I follow her body with my eyes, and about half way there, once the light slowly fades, her towel drops.

She's naked, again.

"Don't do this to me tonight." I whispered to midnight woman.

"What?" I look back at the woman in before me, forgetting she was there. I snapped out of it.

"Sorry, I just. I'm tired. Tonight you pissed me off, and I just can't deal with this." I steal another glance of midnight woman's body and there he goes again. My dick getting hard. I'm literally pissed right now, because this crying woman, who I've had sex with six times is standing here, and she's my literal only chance to knock this erection out of my system. She started kissing me, and the moment she felt my dick, she thought it was for her. What am I supposed to do with this? I'm in desperate need of swearing off all women. If karma could just take it easy on me, as I've tried to walk away from bullshit, and drama.

I walk her into my place, and grab a condom out of the kitchen. Don't ask why I kept them there. They're all over my house, you can never know when and where spontaneous sex is going to happen.

This crying, woman, with the neurotic psychosis, wanted me, and she wanted me right now. So, this time, I did what I did earlier. I take her to the window. "Want me to suck you first?"

"No, I'm already hard." The irony, after all the shit she spoke earlier. I ignore the opportunity to call her on her shit, and instead, I fuck her. But this time, I wait for the woman in the water, to get out, and watch her body drip salt water under the moonlight. She must've swam for about twenty minutes, and I didn't care. Because, I waited and I waited. When she stepped out and walked back to her towel, she saw me, and she saw me watching her, and she didn't bother putting the towel back on. She stood there, and let me watch her naked body as I fucked this woman. We just watched each other, while I fucked this woman against the glass. Her eyes were as trained on me, as mine were on her.

She kept her towel off longer than normal, and allowed her body to be adored, by me. This stranger that needed the feeling I got, from seeing her naked. Her body gave me the types of erections that were so hard they hurt. She's playing this game with me, and she's okay with it.

When I came, I came so hard, and so loud... I nearly fainted. Once my head collapsed against the glass, she smiled at me, and walked all the way back to her house, covered in her towel. And still, I couldn't take my eyes off of her, until her living room light went off. At this point, I stumbled to my liquor cabinet, drank a glass of bourbon and collapsed on my bed of exhaustion, I didn't say a word to the crying woman with long brown hair, who burnt eggs. Oh, Elaine was her name. I think. I don't know when she left. But she was gone when I woke up in the morning.

"Thank God." I thought.

Today was Sunday. The day I hated having company. The day, I enjoyed being alone. I made coffee, and didn't comb my hair. I got a text from the woman, I'd now had sex with seven times.

 **Sorry I had to leave. Last night was the last time. We are too toxic, and I'm not sure it's good for me, to keep coming back to you this way. Good Bye.**

And I replied.

 **Okay.**

Short and sweet. I didn't have any other feelings about it. It's almost time for Midnight woman to play frisbee. This time, I'm going outside, and I'm going to take my pictures of the scenery, and maybe we'll talk, maybe we won't.

We'll see.

* * *

 **A/N To clarify, Damon's new neighbor is Bonnie. And the woman he is casually screwing is Elena. Elena doesn't realize Damon's a sex addict, but she fills his need, in a toxic way. Even though he's an addict, he sees nothing wrong with it, at first, until he realizes it can lead to problems. He loves a none-complicated lifestyle. He has one, but, from the moment Bonnie enters his life, she makes him question his whole existence. So, this is a short five-chapter short story. Already written. I can leave it as a one shot, or continue. Let me know what you thought.**


	2. TRIGGER

**Addict**

 **Part 2- TRIGGER**

 **R-M - very mature content**

 **Surprise! Chapter 2 is ready for you… I can't promise they will be updated every day, because I am editing on my free time. But enjoy, please, and let me know what you think …**

* * *

I sat a while outside getting good photographs of the sand crabs. I'm not a big fan of sand crabs, they are sort of a nuisance, because they blend to heavily into the sand and the moment you get close enough, they disappear. I'm sitting here planted on the sand, laid out like a sniper, camera pointed at a busy sand crab area, waiting to get a good shot.

I remained so focused. I literally, didn't blink, no matter how my eyes were burning. Still, and none-blinking, just aiming and waiting, and waiting and aiming. These little bastards, must know I'm watching. "You've got it all wrong." Her voice sounded like a song, I'd replayed over and over since she introduced herself to me.

I turned slightly, "What is wrong with what I'm doing?" I asked myself, and she, popped up out of nowhere and asked answered.

"They know you're watching. You're far too focused. Be normal."

"Normal. As in what?" We are about to pretend she didn't watch me, watch her, while I fucked another woman.

"Just like, act like you would any other time. Go for a swim."

"I have a camera."

"I know, you ass." She surprised me, with that. But she laughed directly after. "Put your camera down. Turn it on, aim it at the crab hole, go jump in the water, and after a few minutes get out, come back and press the picture button. Or set it up on an automatic timer, and allow it to do a few sets while you swim. Sure, it may not capture what you want right away, but your likely to get some a couple decent shots."

I'm still looking through my lens as she speaks, as a true, socially awkward idiot would do. I have this thing, where I'm confident with women, but I just don't have that emotional skill set that allows me to connect to them on a socially inviting level, unless it's for sex. She stands behind me, and then I lay still, unsure what to do next, as I aim at the crabs. And like a truly, unreachable, camera geek, I'm still focused on the lens.

"Well, just a thought. Have a good morning." I felt her walk away, and it wasn't what I wanted. So, without thinking I called out to her.

"Where's Enzo?"

"What?" I could hear her feet stop and I turned around and sat up.

"Your dog?"

"Oh... I thought you meant my ex. I told you my dogs name?"

"Yesterday. Why, is he named after your boyfriend?"

"My ex?"

"Sorry your ex. Who names a dog after their ex?"

"A person, who takes stupid advice from the therapist." She smiled, but looked embarrassed.

"Therapist?"

"Oh, hmmm. I don't usually open with that. Then people find me bizarre. Whatever. Yes, I have a therapist, and yes, he suggested I name my dog after my ex. So, I could find peace." She shook her head, again, seemingly ashamed, and I wanted to hug her right now. I'm not the only one who's therapist gives them stupid advice, and then stupidly takes it.

"Don't feel bad. I recently took stupid advice from a therapist."

"Aww. Now I don't feel so, socially awkward. She allowed her fingers to be engulfed by her large sweater sleeves." God, who is this woman? I'm still sitting here, truly stunned, but socially awkward enough with intimidation that I just remain silent. "So, what advice were you given?"

"Eh. It's really embarrassing." She was being blocked by the sun behind her, all I saw was silhouette. She sat down, and my eyes went straight for her forehead.

"Tell me. I love embarrassing emissions."

"Seriously. You're inhumane." I told her, causing her to p giggle, and it made me loosen up a bit.

"I just told you I named my dog after my ex, to give me closure."

"Fine. She told me, to call back to a woman that I had hung out with several times, and initiate what would be the next hangout."

"And did you?"

"I did."

"So, what happened?"

"Well, do you remember the woman from the other day?"

"Tell me it wasn't her."

"It was."

"Well, from the looks of it, " as she spoke, she looked me in the eye, making me nervous enough to look away. "that advice seemed to have gone well." If I wasn't embarrassed before, that really embarrassed me. I quickly remember what happened the day before. She'd seen me fuck this woman twice, in my window. The second time I watched her naked body, while I, fucked another woman- I can't sit here and torture myself, while I picture her naked again. There's an uncontrollable hellfire happening in my shorts again, and this woman gives me the type of erections, that ache. She waits for my response. "Did I make that awkward? I'm sorry. It's just you two seem very spontaneously sexual, and combative. I just assumed, it was some kink of yours." She said it, like she was hopeful about it.

"You know, you're really fucking blunt." I verbally charged her.

"Sorry. My therapist says I have a highly Increased Broad Affect. Which means I'm able to express myself, verbally, emotionally, and mentally, but at a higher level than the average person. In other words, I have no issues, expressing myself."

"Well, we are polar opposites in that way."

"There's actually a name for it. Depends on how severe it is."

"Its good to know. Well, I actually, don't have a problem saying what's on my mind, it just lacks the proper emotions, I guess. It comes out flat, as if I'm disinterested most of the time." She laughed at me. I couldn't be angry, because it's who I am.

"It doesn't come off as you're disinterested. I'm sure you're just, actually, disinterested." She laughed.

"It takes a lot to gain my interest or impress me, I suppose." I watch as her sweater falls off her shoulders. She's not wearing a bra.

"You're an interesting character."

"I'm really not." I can keep my eyes off her skin.

"You actually are." She smiled and glanced past me, onto the sand crabs hole. "If you continue to talk to me, while moving your hand slightly. You can click your button and get a picture of several really sneaky crabs."

"I have the camera remote. If I hand into you. Can you snap a couple pictures, so I don't have to move?"

"Okay. Sure." I notice her wearing reading glasses again. I still stare above them and hand her the remote. She stares intently for a few seconds at the crabs, then snaps a few pictures. "I really think I got at least two good ones."

"Thanks."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why, do you keep staring at my forehead?" My face went blank. "Sorry. Just wondering if I had a zit or something."

"No. I just don't like looking people in the eyes."

"Wow, you have some vulnerability problems, don't you?" She then sat up, and crawled towards me, and took her glasses off. She looked at me in the eyes, and I kept staring at her forehead. "Come on. Look at me." She shook my face gently while it rests between her two, soft hands, which held my cheeks, pulling my face closer to hers. Fuck. She has no sense for personal space. But, somehow, I don't care. The excitement I get smelling her, and being his close to her... is unbearable. She has no idea what she's doing to me. From the outside, I may seem disinterested. But it's because I'm covering up, how much, touching her excites me. And how much feeling her, makes me want to rip her clothes off, and swallow her body with mine. Then she said it. My name. While she held my face, she spoke it clear as day. "Damon, look me in the eyes."

She called me by my name. She remembered my name. I looked into her eyes and it was probably the purest thing I'd ever seen. Green, like Forrest, and earthy. I'm staring her straight in the eyes, and suddenly, I relax. She bites her lip and smiles. But her teeth are still, holding her bottom lip. I like the way she bites her lips. And all I can do is stare at every corner of her face, while she bites her lip, imagining I'm inside of her, and she's taking all of me.

But as bad as I want her, I'm also afraid of her.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask impatiently. It came out wrong, but that's the lack of emotion I contribute to my interactions with women. I don't mean to. I actually love her touching me, but somehow, I'm an empathetic asshole.

She stopped smiling. "I don't know." She let go of my face, and stood up. "So, I'm going to go back now. Just came to say hi." She started to walk off, just like that. She's almost as socially awkward as I am. She left, like we weren't in the middle of having a conversation, and I stopped her. How dare she walk away from me?

"Where is Enzo?"

"The house. He didn't feel like fetch." She continued to walk away from me, and I let her. After she disappeared, I jumped up and went into my house. I needed a cold shower and to make this erection go away now. I'm so hard, and all I want to do, is make it disappear. When I turned on the cold water, I jumped my body inside and stood there for minutes hoping it would go down. It didn't. I wrapped my hand around my dick, and stroked it several times, hoping to feel anything sensational. But my hand just doesn't do it for me. I tried this for a few minutes. This is a nightmare. What is happening to me?

And I'm not calling neurotic bridal magazine girl. I'm just going to have to suck it up, until it goes down.

Bonnie ruined my fucking Sunday.

 ** _..._**

 ** _Tuesday - Therapy Session_**

 ** _..._**

"Did the past couple of weeks prove to work for you, as far as communicating better?"

"Is that what this was about? You set me up, with that scenario of asking her to hang out again... for what?"

"Damon its very healthy you express yourself. You either liked her or you didn't. The goal wasn't to make you like her, it was for you to understand yourself better. If in the process, it helped your connection with her then it did. But if it didn't, it didn't. But you'd be able to be more honest about it."

"She really went crazy."

"Well, it's important to know your actions have consequences. And people have feelings. What you thought you were doing was being interpreted all wrong by her. You shouldn't assume that while you're okay with a certain relationship, the other person is. Vocalize your truths and they will vocalize theirs, many times."

Damon sat there annoyed and discontent. He felt punished for doing what he was told, and it didn't sit well with him. "I took your advice. You walked me into a trap."

"No, I helped you to make an adult observation from another person's view point. Another point of view of a person who is directly involved with the decisions you make."

"She was the least of my problems. I have this new neighbor. She's a bit absurd."

"She?"

"Yeah. But don't take it for anything special. She's just a neighbor." The therapist promoted her notepad and pen and proceeded to write something. "What about what I said, was worth writing?"

"Who said, I'm writing something you said?"

"You started writing the moment I said that, and you proceeded to assume something about the neighbor. I need you to stop doing that. Don't assume I'm interested in her. I'm merely speaking of an experience. I had."

"I apologize, proceed." He allowed his body to relax, so he could finish telling her about Bonnie.

"She's peculiar. We've had two interactions. But I've seen her more than a handful of times. She kind of captures my muse. She seems in good spirits when we interact, but the times I see her alone, she seems internally...withdrawn. I mean, it's hard to say, because she's always alone, but there's something different about her when she's alone. And I feel a connection with her. Different when she's in my face. She's a bit abrasively honest, and blunt."

"Does it bother you, her being abrasively honest and blunt?"

"I don't know. She makes me uncomfortable. But, the woman she is when she's alone, seems a lot like me."

"What is the objective here?"

"I think when I see her alone, I want to approach her. I want to confront her, when she is in her head space, and see what she's about. She seems lonely."

"Sometimes, people need to be in their headspace to clear their minds and become objective."

"Certainly."

"You do this often. You don't like your space being crowded. Right? Sundays are your days, as much as these moments of hers are necessary and reflective, they are probably important that she's alone."

"I know, but that woman, is calling to me. That woman, she is when she's crying. That woman, she is when she's thinking. I want to take a picture of that woman. She is my muse. She's been haunting me for two weeks. Also, she's runs out to the water at night naked."

"So, this is sexual for you? A conquest. I urge you Damon, to really think about what your sexual, disconnect may mean for someone, who is reaching out, or in need of a real connection."

"This isn't about sex."

"I don't believe you're even sure about that."

"Doc?"

"Tell me this, have you had a sexual thought about her?"

"That's unfair. You know my issue with sex. I can't help it."

"Damon, you're a good person. But, as your doctor, I have an opportunity to be subjective, but professionally I have to remain objective. You are learning, to understand your sexual urges better. You're learning, how to better address your strong sexual desires. Interacting with a woman, whom you have sexualized, and objectified in your mind as this new unattained-"

"Im going to stop you right there, Doc. This isn't a conquest. For two weeks, I think about this woman. This has never happened to me before. She has, given me erections that won't go down. And even trying to have sexual relations with another, woman, didn't work. I need to know this woman. She haunts my mind."

"What about getting to know her? Finding maybe, you are genuinely interested in who she is."

"And what about these fucking erections?"

"Buy yourself a sex toy. Go to a sex shop, buy an artificial vagina." Damon quickly made a face of disgust. "Don't make that face. You'd be surprised."

"Masturbation, doesn't work for me, which is why I have the issues with sex I have."

"I'm asking you to try it. From a mature point of view, protecting this vulnerability you have, with your brand-new relationship to this new person in your life."

"It's not a relationship."

"You've interacted. She's imprinted on your brain, to a point she effects your decisions. It's a relationship. No matter how you perceive it. You need this vulnerability, this is where, you find growth. I would like to see you work on this relationship. Not romantically, necessarily. The conversations you've had, please engage in understanding and listening to her. Hear what she's saying. Typically, people who speak freely, have a need to be heard, and aren't being heard."

"But, Doc, the last time we spoke, I may have made her uncomfortable."

"Tell me about this incident."

"She made me look her in the eyes, saying I had vulnerability issues. She touched my face, and I didn't like that. Then she shook me. So, I asked why she was doing that? And she became uncomfortable. I'm sure several times I just made her uncomfortable. She was a trooper, she sat with me anyways, until I just... pushed her away."

The doctor wrote down on her notebook again. Damon's jaw ticked, and he sat there shaking his knees and tapping his fingers on his knees. "I'd like to focus on this connection for you. Be it friendship, or more. I want you to explore this, further. Spend time with her. Give extra energy into hearing her, and really listening."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"When you see her outside go talk to her. Knock on her door, and invite her for dinner. And do not address her when she's outside swimming naked. Which I'm guessing is late at night. That night swimming sounds like some form of coping. I'm sure she could easily swim during the day, but she nude swims in the night to avoid people it seems. Don't initiate a sexual encounter, Damon. Initiate, real intimacy. Talking, listening, learning, exploring, friendship."

"This is a joke."

"You feel that way, now. But you will thank me."

 **...**

 **Wednesday**

 **...**

She went skinny dipping again last night, I didn't want to watch her, but I did. And I think she wants me to. I couldn't even tell my therapist in detail, the roller coaster of feelings that goes through me over this woman I've had two conversations with. I don't even know her.

And I watched her. I watched her, stand on the beach, longer than normal when she's naked. She knows, I watch her, or she wouldn't have stayed out there longer. I'm not buying an artificial vagina either. I looked them up online. It's called a **_pocket pussy_**. A fucking pocket pussy? It's demeaning, and asinine.

Blue balls.

That's what happened to me for the second time, because of this woman.

I went to the studio today and finished developing my film from Saturday. I found several beautiful shots of her. Some sitting on her porch, and some on the beach laughing, playing frisbee with her dog, with that name I shall not repeat. I let them hang at the studio to dry, and I'll be able to fully see them tomorrow.

I find one of the hardest things about what my therapist said, is that this woman, that I don't know, makes me vulnerable. She's disregarding the purpose I'm trying to create for my life. Which is being at peace with myself. Not everyone needs vulnerability and deeply interpersonal relationships.

A knock at my door knocks me out of my mental purgatory. I'm just hoping for someone to be delivering me a platter of sanity, but when I open the door it's the woman who sucks the life out of me.

Eleanor.

"I think we've had a week to calm down."

"You are truly a piece of work. You need to go home."

"No. I'm not going home." She pushed into my house, and I'm not one to hit a woman, and with the little history we have, we are angry sex. It's not even make up sex. It's just this toxic, sexual dependency. And I'm in a place right now, where I am on full back up, from Bonnie. And this woman, keeps finding her way into my space, when I need a fix. It's like a drug. Sex is a drug for me. She is putting it in my face, and forcing it down my throat. How do I say no? I'm hungry for it. But not from her. I want it from the stranger, who is capturing the parts of me, that I have buried so deeply inside, that I didn't believe they still existed.

"Eleanor."

"Elena!"

"Haha, I'm Kidding... Elena." But I wasn't, I actually forgot. "I need to say something. What we have is unhealthy. I'm at a point in my life, that what we are doing, isn't helping me. I don't want to engage in a sexual relationship with someone, that I cannot develop feelings for. I'm protecting you, because in the end this is going to hurt you. I don't want that."

And there you have it. All this money I pay my therapist is paying off, because those are words I'd never imagined myself saying.

"Fine. I don't want anything but sex, please just, touch me."

I walked away and went into my bedroom. She followed me. I walked out of the hallway on the opposite side of my room, which was a windowed hallway that filtered back into the front side of my living room, and to my liquor cabinet. I am forcing myself to walk away and avoid this psycho. I poured some Bourbon. When I turned around she was naked, and I wasn't prepared mentally for this today. Men get I. Trouble for calling women crazy, but this woman is the definition. "I don't have feelings for you, Elena. Not because you are undeserving, because I'm sure you are. But, you should be with a guy who can give you this, and I can't."

"It's okay."

"This isn't good for my progress. I have a sickness. I have an unhealthy addiction to consensual, platonic sexual engagement." I can't believe I said that out loud.

"Good, then you should be okay with fucking me."

I drink my Bourbon quickly and see out of the corner of my eye, the woman that's mentally trapped me inside of her mystery. She was on the beach, walking in a bathing suit. She glanced into my house, and I know she sees this naked woman in front of me. She sees me, as I see her, and it's almost a game we play. What am I doing? I need to-

"What are you doing?" I ask, while she drops and unfastens my pants. "Don't pull my pants down." I stop her as much as I can, and try to stand her up, but she reached inside and pulled my dick out. My dick's, that hard, because Bonnie's outside in a bikini.

The past two weeks of my life, have been completely unpredictable, and in that, I find it very hard to stop things before they start, because I'm losing control. I always have such good control, and suddenly, it's gone. These two women have been splitting me in half. The struggle with Elena continues, but she won't get up. So, I do the only thing I can to stop her. And honestly, the only reason I'm struggling with Elena, is because I can't have Bonnie. And I want Bonnie. But she is unattainable.

"My neighbor is outside. You should put some clothes on." But those words only fuel her fire. She keeps going. Her mouths on me, and I feel nothing. Bonnie has disappeared, and I'm going to drown myself in Bourbon. "Elena, get up! I told you, that you and I are unhealthy. You should go."

"Mid blowjob? Are you kidding me?" You have no idea how hard it is to stop a woman mid blow job. But, I had to for my sanity. For my protection.

"No. It's not a joke, Elaine. I need you to go." She stood up, and I looked at her body, and this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'm sending her away.

"Elena! Say it right, asshole. This is so humiliating." She puts her dress back on, and I only feel bad that I can't remember her name.

"I'm sorry. I've told you I don't want to hurt you. Please don't be embarrassed."

 **SLAP!**

That's what I got from her, across the face before she stormed out of my house. She yelled outside at someone, then I heard her car speed off. She left my front door open, and I after I fix my clothes, I walk to the front to close it, and she's in my house.

No, not Bridal magazine girl. Midnight woman. And she's wearing a long cream-colored dress. No bra, I notice right away and when I see her nipples through her dress. It's strapped and backless, and she's looks so peaceful. She looks at me, like she's surprised. I didn't say anything, I stood there. How'd she get dressed so fast?

"Sorry. I was sitting on my front porch." She twiddled her fingers nervously. Why was she nervous? "I love the sunlight, so I thought I'd go for a walk. And for the third time I saw you having sex in your window." She said bluntly. She has a real way of making me feel ashamed of myself, without even trying.

"I wasn't having sex." I borderline snapped.

"Engaging in fellatio. I'm sorry. Anyways, it's hard invading your privacy so much. It's not that I mean to, but... you know what? Never mind. This was stupid. I should go."

"Don't go."

"No, I should. I'm sorry for looking. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry, I pissed your girlfriend off."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Well, I'm sorry I pissed your friend off. But you should know, that since I've lived next door to you, I've been exposed to things that have made me question myself. And today, for once, I literally feel set-back for the first time in months. Seeing you naked..." she trailed off, looked at my shirtless body, and half buckled pants, and her lips trembled, almost as if she was going to cry, or hurl... I couldn't tell. All I know is she looked weak. She kept looking at my body, and I let her. Watch me Bonnie, watch me, because I sit there and watch you, like a fucking disgusting pervert. She finally looked back up at my face, and her hand went to her crotch, and I watched her grab herself and pinch her legs together, like she had to pee. "Damon, I was doing so well, and you'r libido, and sexual over animation...GOD! You know, you fuck a lot! I can tell. You're a fucking, sexual disaster. You just... you have no remorse for fucking in your windows. And you shouldn't feel remorse, it's your house, but... but you fuck her like an animal." Every word she says I want to rip that dress off of her. The way she says **fuck** and the way she stares at my body like she's enraged. It's taking everything in me not to... fuck her. "You and your libido, and your sexual spontaneity has made me do something regretful, and it's too late to go back now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Watching you fuck her, was certainly my trigger."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I don't know what I did." I'm so confused right now.

"I thought I was stronger than that, and you proved me wrong. And now... I've already made a choice, and I can't go back on it-"

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"I sound crazy. Never mind. Forget I came here." When she turned to leave, a ran to her, grabbed her by her arm, and stopped her. She wouldn't face me. She couldn't face me. She just kept her body facing away from mine.

"I didn't plan for this to happen."

"Its fine. It's your home. I'm sorry. That's all I wanted to say. I'm sorry for having invaded your privacy. I was sitting on my front porch when that girl ran out and screamed at me, then blamed me for something, I don't even know I did. So, I came to apologize."

"I'm sorry she yelled at you. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry you saw that."

"It's okay. It's your life." My strong grip on her arm was more than I could even handle. She gently removed my hand from her arm and walked out of the house. And I'm left wondering what she meant by I set her back. Her progress, and her making a regretful choice. I've had the conversations with this woman. Each one of them so telling. And each one makes me want to know her more. It's not just sex, right? I can't just want to fuck her. There has to be more to what I want from her, right?

 **...**

A couple of hours later I hear a loud motorcycle pull up outside. I don't bother looking. I don't know anyone with a motorcycle. I was laying out some photos, for a spread I was editing. It was finally dark out and I just remembered I hadn't eaten. I ordered some food from a takeout service I use. When it got here, as I was paying for it, I realized the motorcycle was sitting in her drive way. For the weeks, she's invaded my entire existence, she's never had one other person at her house.

That's a man's bike. It's not my place to care. I will admit, I have some residually, manifested, and unsettling feelings built up from my five-minute interaction with her today. Suddenly, I'm not hungry. I'm back at mental unrest, so my food sits for an hour. I walk out to my back porch, and sit on my practically unused patio furniture. I leave all of the lights out, and just sit quietly. I notice her lights are on, and I allow myself to quietly observe. I could hear some laughter. Then I hear some barking. The dog rarely barks, but he was barking. So, she walks out, with him. I'm guessing he had to go to the bathroom. She walks out with him, some, and with that she can't see me, ghosting in the dark.

Then, two minutes later. A taller guy with dark hair walks out. He's wearing the entire, typical, biker guy get-up. "Hurry up and come back inside."

"Stop. I'm walking him. It takes him a while."

"I'm waiting for you."

The moment he said that, I paid such close attention to him. He looked a bit familiar. But I can't place it. It's too dark to tell. And I didn't like anything about his demeanor. He was cocky, and demanding. Too demanding. She wasn't really the kind of woman you demanded. She was the kind of woman you, begged. She's the kind of woman, you don't feel worthy of.

This asshole, is acting like he has her wrapped around his finger. "Hey, I came, because you called me. I haven't seen you in months. You won't talk to me. I miss you. Now, I'm waiting because of the bloody dog, give me a break."

He was the set back. I get it now. She came to me, and said I set her back, and she made this regretful choice. She called a man she hadn't spoken to in months. But, what does my having sex, have anything to do with her regression? She and I, are no one to each other. Nothing. Two strangers crossing paths, until we approach another impasse in our lives, and one of us goes a different direction.

Until then, I guess... we were brought into each other's life for a reason. That's all I can think. My therapist has me on some outrageous journey, and somehow, this woman is a part of it. While I battle my prolonged mental struggle about this mystery woman, I notice that her once upon a time laughter with him, has now turned conflict. I don't know how it started, because I was stuck in my thoughts, but I heard him apologize. That apology, is laughable. If that's what you want to call it. He's not good at being remorseful.

"Fine. What should I bloody say? I'm fucking sorry."

"You are sorry. You're a sorry bastard."

"This, isn't why I came here to be reminded of how things ended."

"Ended? I left you, because you couldn't get your shit together. You fucked everything in sight. And I gave you everything."

He reached around, her as she turned from him to find her dog, who hadn't come back yet. He tried holding her, and she pushed him away. "Don't touch me."

"Fuck you. Why am I here?"

"I don't know. I just... it's been so long since-"

"Since what? Since we've had sex? You decided to become celibate. Not me. Why do you think I fucked other women? Celibacy is your journey, not mine."

"I have a problem Lorenzo! Why couldn't you just be patient? Why couldn't you just let me have peace for a few months, to wrap my mind around it. Sex addiction, is a real problem!"

And in half a second I went from leaning back, to upright and vigilant to her words. Did she just admit to being a sex addict?

"Sexual addiction, is not a problem of psychosis. It's not even a real condition. You like sex, you fucking, love sex! Stop seeking attention about it."

"It's much more than that, and it's not about attention."

"So, stop fucking your boyfriend, right? Make him suffer so you can find yourself? Pathetic." What an asshole. He just, doesn't get it. Which is why, sex addicts hate telling people, about our disease. It's much more of an interpersonal, struggle. People don't truly get it.

"Pathetic? You called me pathetic?"

"Yes! Bloody pathetic."

"Get out! I called you, because I made a mistake. I thought I was ready, but I'm not. I need to go find my dog. Get out. Go home, Lorenzo." She left him on the back porch and went to search for Enzo. I saw her boyfriend, stand for a second, then he went back in the house slamming her door. I got up, and proceeded to attempt to help her. And suddenly, he ran back out, and I stopped.

"Love, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Bullshit! He meant it, don't fall for it, Bonnie.

"Go home. I don't need you." She yelled.

"Please, let me help you, find the dog, and if you still want me to leave, I will."

"He doesn't like you. My fucking dog, hates you. Go back inside. He probably ran away, because of you, asshole." He went back inside, slamming her door yet again. I hate this guy. I got up again and walked back onto the beach to her. I walked out about a hundred feet and I could hear her crying. She was walking around kicking up sand, and looking for the dog. "Zozo... come on puppy. Don't hide from me. Please?"

"So, I guess he finally wanted to play fetch?" I asked her.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think you were home."

"Whys that?"

"All your lights are off."

"You watch for me?" I embarrassed her.

"I do. I live alone, so I always focus on when neighbors are home."

"You live... Alone?"

"Yeah. Alone. I've actually lived alone a while now, but I'd been waiting to buy this place from the owner."

"You bought this place?"

"Yes. Why is are these questions so hard to believe?"

"Because, one, you're a beautiful woman, and if any man is lucky enough to have you, he shouldn't let you spend so much time alone. And two, as long as I've lived here, the owner, he's rented it out to shitty tenants. Rich people who can afford his ridiculous rates."

"Well, that's my dad for you."

"Your dad is the owner?"

"Was. I wanted this property since I was a kid. He would never "give" it to me. But told me, when I saved enough, I could buy it. He hates this property. It used to be his and my mom's vacation property. I came here every summer. When my parents separated, I went with my mom. My dad got this place, in their divorce. Then turned it into rental property. And I've been in negotiations with him ever since I was ten."

"I can't believe he made you buy it. As opposed to happy graduation or something."

"Very funny. When I graduated, I got kicked out of the house, and told, life starts now. You either succeed or you fail. I lived on campus for the first year, and ever since then I've lived on my own." I was enjoying walking and talking to her, and sort of looking for the dog that shall remain nameless, when he finally came running up to us. "There you are baby." She fell to her knees and poured so much love on to the dog. "Awww, Zozo. Baby, boy."

"Zozo? Wow, I like that a lot better than that other name." She looked up and laughed, at me.

"He likes Zozo better too. He hates being called Enzo."

"Dogs are usually a great judge of things." She looked at me and laughed.

"Yeah, they are. He seems to like you."

"There you have it."

"Zozo, is a bad boy and runs away whenever he's faced with sharing me with Lorenzo." She falls back on the sand, and she's a different person than she was ten minutes ago. But, I couldn't handle not knowing why she was crying. Even if I heard the argument, I'm taking my therapists advice. I approached her. Now I'm talking, and engaging, so I can listen.

"Why were you crying when I came out here?"

"Why do you always manage to be unintentionally abrasive?" She sat up, holding her dog.

"I don't mean to be. I have a hard time, showing empathy." I didn't want to offend her. But, I felt complete daggers inside of her eyes, when I reminded her how she was sad.

"People cry. It's normal."

"I don't like seeing you cry."

"I appreciate that, but you hardly know me."

"I want to know you."

"I'm not," she shook her head at me, and I felt some form of rejection happening, and with that, I wasn't prepared to be rejected, "I'm not sure what that means."

"Neither am I." I kneel down and wipe the remnants of her wet cheek with the pads of my thumbs. She changed the subject.

"Sometimes, I walk outside, to see if I can see you in your house. I mean, not fucking or anything. Just, existing. You're such a recluse. I guess, I seem pretty weird, right?" Hearing that made me feel less crazy for having been waiting to see her when she walks outside every day.

"No. It's not weird." As dark as it is outside, right now, and all I can focus on is the green of her irises and somewhere inside of me, the ignition, is lit, and burning right under my skin, while the skin of her cheeks rest in my palms. I'm not sure where the dog went, but he jumped out of her lap, and we moved towards one another. I pulled her lips to mine, and my need for her touch was so deep and desperate, that because of my therapist's words, I couldn't do it. I couldn't sexualize this connection. Although it may be too late for that. We practically had imaginary sex a few nights ago.

That has yet to be mentioned.

She looks at me, like she wants me to touch her, everywhere. She begins to breath emphatically. I feel her chest as it takes in and releases air.

I have never felt someone's, need the way I feel hers. I have never felt someone's, emotions the way I feel hers, and she put her hands in my hair, and we just, looked at one another, in this strange and intimate, moment. We are connecting. There's so much adrenaline, and blood flowing to all of the wrong places, she needs to be naked, and I need to be inside of her. This needs to happen. I need this to happen right now. Free me, midnight woman. Free me, from my own mind, and make me feel all the things you feel. Let me take all of the pain and swallow it with my apathy. Let me crush your pain, and make it none-existent. Then let me create anything you want out of this moment. "God, I want you." I whispered it into her lips. And she exhaled, and started to breathe heavily. Our breaths were entangled in one another's. And it felt so, obnoxiously satisfying to be breathing her air. "I really want you. Which is really weird, because we're practically strangers. And you deserve better than a guy like me." She let out a quiet, and sad laugh, and whispered back to me.

"That's too bad." I didn't want to let her face go. I wanted to sit here, and know her. But...

("Bonnie!") He called to her.

"I should go."

"Who is he?" I demanded.

"The ex."

"The one you had no closure from?"

"Yes." I'm still holding her face, refusing to let her go.

"You guys back together?" She didn't answer. "Do you love him?" She remained quiet. "Is he, the reason, you're crying?"

"I cry, every day. It's good for me."

"And today... why are you crying?"

"I'm crying, because, I have no will power."

("BONNIE!") He called again, and she got up, forcing me to let her face go.

"Go away Lorenzo!" She yelled. He slammed her door closed again.

"Thanks for helping me find Zozo." She leaned in and hugged me, and that is when she felt how hard my dick was. It was such an embarrassing moment, for me. I almost swallowed my own tongue, wanting to suffocate, rather than for her to feel disgusted by me. I couldn't hide it, and now, I'm sure she felt objectified, and she will probably never want to speak to or look at me again.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't- fuck this is embarrassing." She boldly looked down at my erect pants, and back up at me. "Bonnie, I'm so FUCKING sorry, it's not what you think-" she looked at me for a half a second, and then rushed my body and kissed me. I didn't want to feel how soft her lips felt against mine, and how perfectly she placed the right amount of force to pull me out of myself. I didn't want to know that she loved deep kisses, like me. The kind of kisses we suffocate each other. I hated the fact that she took her time, and tasted me. Licked her lips and went back in, after smiling. Her hand holding the back of my neck, gently yet firmly, like I belonged to her, was one of those things I could have lived without knowing. And I could've lived without knowing she was braless, under this dress still, and her nipples poke me though my thin t-shirt, as the breeze stiffened them. Her kiss was dominant, like she kissed to breath, and she was fighting to live, right now. I softly matched her attack, and met her force for force. Somehow, we end up against a tree and my hands were under her dress, holding the highest part of the back of her thigh, lifting her slightly, making her could feel my unapologetic dick, as it touched her panties through my jeans. She should know what she's been torturing me with for nights among sleepless nights. I wanted her to feel the part of me that throbbed beyond repair every time I saw her naked, and wouldn't stop throbbing until I had sex to relieve my pain. And unfortunately, I wasn't having sex with her, to relieve it. I was with the psycho.

But, tonight, I will finally relieve it with her body. Tonight, I will finally be inside of her, and lord help me I don't bust too quick, the more she felt my stiff, muscle, the more she whimpered in anticipation. "Please..." I hear her whisper. "Touch me..." I feel her rubbing her pussy against me, and she's wild. We forgot she had company, we were tuned into this moment, while the world was tuned out. I felt her wanting me to fuck her, like rules didn't apply to us, as sex addicts.

She loved it. She loved how my dick felt against her, and I loved feeling the instant heat from between her legs. I lifted her more, and her legs wrap around my waist slightly. And it was nothing to get my pants down. I unfasten them quickly, like a junkie, needing a fix, and she just held onto me, anticipating this rough, hard ride. I want this to happen. I want to stick my dick inside of her, and feel myself melt, because I'm almost positive that's how hot, the lava between her legs flows. I moved her panties to the side, and this is about to happen. The head of my dick touched her swollen pussy lips and as I began to push inside of her, she was so tight, I couldn't breathe. That's right, she'd been celibate.

The beast in me wants to absolutely wreck her. Turn her life upside down, and fuck her up in the head. But, the man in me wanted to cry, like a little bitch about to lose his virginity.

I watched her face, as her eyes squeezed shut. And her teeth bit her lip, and she was as needy as me. And not, in a horny, make me cum way. It was more like, she needed that feeling of, utter pleasure, and just, giving in and letting go. She was trapped inside of herself with a dire need for release, I felt it. And I'm not even inside of her. The head of my dick, is just barley poking her pussy lips.

She was warm, and soft. Holding her, felt like holding the entire world in my palms. She was everything, that I wasn't, and everything that I was, and I want her more than I've ever wanted anything, on this Earth.

("BONNIE!") He called her again, disrupting us. And everything my therapist said to me hit my ear drums like guilt. How I needed to get to know her, and not make this about sex. Then hearing her addiction, was my addiction, I knew I couldn't hurt her. So, I stopped, while we were both anticipating my breaking through her barrier, and pushing into her. I became the world's stupidest man, and stopped when I heard him ("BONNIE!") yell, out again.

I stopped.

"You should go. He's waiting." I said. Her face paused in shock, but she was unconcerned.

"I don't care. I don't fucking care." She almost cried the words. "Fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me." I couldn't handle looking in her face, and hearing the words coming from her mouth. Even if they words I lived to hear her say.

But I kept inserting my foot into my mouth. "I'm not in a good place. And I'm not ready for this kind of commitment, Bonnie-" then, every part of her, that was touching every part of me, suddenly ceased.

And even though I was trying to protect her, I think I said that wrong. Fuck. I said it wrong.

"I see." She went from hot to cold, in seconds.

"That's not what I meant-"

"It's fine." She smiled and allowed her body to glide gently down mine, leaving my hard dick, without a reason. I'm gonna have blue balls again. "I'll see you later." She adjusted her dress and panties, walked back, and just like that, she was gone, with Zozo, not far behind her. After pulling my pants up, I went inside. It was only nine o'clock. I had three hours. I wanted him gone, and three hours, meant I would see her go on her midnight swim. He left at eleven. I heard his bike start up, and he was gone. I needed to see her. I needed to know we were okay. I waited, and waited. Midnight... nothing. One am... nothing. Two am... fuck!

She not going to swim tonight. She's angry at me. She's... moved on.

 **...**

She did this for a week. In that week, he came over three more times.

It reminded me of the words out of my therapist's mouth. Go to her. Engage, invite her for dinner. Be platonic, and listen.

My ego won't let me.

For once, I'm stuck, in one place. I haven't thought about random sex all week. I just keep thinking about what happened between me and her, and wanting to talk to her. Seeing her face. Being outside while she's outside, even if we don't speak. I just want for us to be in the same space, because her presence fulfills something inside of me.

And still, I had blue balls for a few days. My dick would get hard on its own, remembering how I stopped us from having sex, right as my dick was about to enter her body.

Not only am I a stupid man, but quite foolish to not take advantage of both of our weaknesses, and fulfill it with both of our selfish need to fuck each other.

 **...**

 **Two weeks post Kiss**

 **...**

I've gone back to my life, before Bonnie. He's been there so much in the past two weeks, that, at this point, I'm just giving up. I want her to be happy. I don't personally like this guy, and I don't technically know him. What I do know, is he doesn't deserve her. But neither do I.

And I won't forget that I heard her admit, she's an addict like me. I haven't been able to let those words escape my memory for weeks. It just reminded me, that she deserves space to evaluate her desires and her needs, without someone to cloud her judgement. I get her, better than she realizes. But... One motto I live by, that will stay with me forever.

When it comes to love and sex, a person deserves the right to give it freely, on their terms. Forcing, and willing the need from them pushes them away, and into a corner, where they remain isolated, and fight what it means to love themselves.

I care about her feelings.

I won't do that to her. She deserves better.

See, it's not just about sex with her, right?

It's much deeper than that.

I think.

* * *

 **A/N okay so, Damon over-heard Bonnie is a sex addict to, when she was arguing with her ex. And she's been celibate for months. She confronted him about his spontaneous, window sex and how it triggered her. So, she called an ex, she hadn't seen in months. Then the two of them share the moment on the beach, like two junkies. And they will bond quick, because they have this connection, that they cant control.**

 **Damon has yet to tell her he's a sex addict too.**

 **So, a couple people mentioned Bonnie's perspective. I could put a chapter (next) which would be easy to write, that's all Bonnie's perspective? Explaining - Who she is and why. Her addiction, first impressions of Damon, and his life. Watching him in the window, and how it triggered her. It's up to you... either way I'll try to keep this updated promptly, since it's short.**

 **Thoughts so far?**


	3. THE ACHE

**Addict**

 **Ch 3 - Bonnie's Chapter "THE ACHE"**

 **R-M Very Mature themes and content**

 **Sorry this took a minute. I had a busy weekend, and this is my Bonnie POV chapter for those of you who wanted a little background, on her, and to know what she thinks, feels, and deals with as it pertains to Damon and her also her struggles with this addiction, from those first two chapters. Keep in mind this chapter was just written and added to the story since the last chapter was posted. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Today is a difficult day for me. I leave the confines and comfort of the town I grew up in. I could be disappointed, but I'm actually nervously looking forward to it. It'll keep me from running towards bad habits. I look at the scenery as I pull into the driveway of this romantic beachfront getaway. The perfect place to build a romance. The perfect place to see the bigger picture, of the caliber of life I should be living. One that brings me peace and serenity.

I have a couple of months off of work. I'm a dancer. And in my time performing, I've come in contact with a lot of womanizers in this line of work. Male dancers, producers, directors, choreographers, stage techs, composers, musicians. I've had my fair share of scandalous love affairs. Not a lot of men, on my resume. But the amount of sex in my resume, is on the high end of experienced. I've not been with limitless amounts of men, because, I'm a relationship girl. And when I'm in a relationship, I love hard. Mentally, emotionally, and sexually.

But every man lacks what I need... spiritually.

Which is why, I'm such a laid-back individual. Because my love life, is a wreck. I practice yoga, and I meditate, and I am a private dance instructor, when I'm not working on traveling gigs. I love my career, and I love my life. But, I have an addiction, which causes me to not love myself the way I should.

You wanna know that addiction?

Sex.

Sex, can make me forget myself in a heartbeat, and lose my mind to the feeling of freedom, acceptance, and desire.

But, sex is beautiful, and it's real. It's the truest form of connection between two people. When you can give someone your body, and trust them to handle it, with every intention of selflessly gifting it with pleasure, it's a true connection of not just the body, but the mind. And in all fairness, I feel the freest, when I'm sexually connected to a person.

But, now, I'm on a spiritual journey. I'm hoping to figure out how to love myself, and teach the new people that I allow into my life to love me too.

I've had painful experiences with men. I've been trapped in relationships, by sex. Feeling like I had to be the image of their sexual desires in order to feel loved. I felt, loved when I was giving my body away. Because, for me sex equaled love. And it wasn't until recently, I realized, my vision was blurry. Sure, sex, is a form of love. But so is spirituality, and connection. Sex, is a gift.

But, with the wrong person, it can be toxic dependency. With a person, who loves mental warfare, it can be the addiction, that drives you to desperate measures. Infidelity, prostitution, loss of self, loss of control, loss of worth.

A good example, is my ex. He is a musician that I met on tour, a few years ago. His band was hired for our production. Our attraction wasn't instant. In fact, I hated him. He looked like a womanizer. But, boy did he play the hell out of a guitar. That's how we became close. He played the guitar for my solo. It was a Spanish themed ballet piece. I performed a mixture of ballet and folklórico, and he and I had to work together one on one... a lot.

One thing lead to the other, and the first time we hung out, outside of work, we had sex. It was wild, and crazy, and every pain I felt on the dance floor, I lost during our sexual bouts, every night. I needed that release. He knew it, and he was more than happy to oblige. I needed that loss of control, since dance forces me to be in such control. And I've been dancing since I was three. The amount of precision and control I was forced to have for all of those years growing up, was enough to make me go crazy when I finally went on my first ballet tour without my mom.

I lost my virginity to my ballet instructor. He was twenty years older than me, and we had a relationship ship for two years.

I believed everything he told me.

I wanted to be his perfect image of both a dancer and a lover.

It was toxic, abusive, and depressing. He took out all his frustrations on me, and I accepted it because I was young and naive. But those patterns, continued for ten years with all my relationships. Until a year ago, when I decided to talk to someone. My therapist, who I now have seen for a year. I was eventually diagnosed with hypersexuality, aka, compulsive sexual-dependency, aka what many call, nymphomania.

I tried my hardest to fight my addiction. For months, I focused on other ways of bonding, with my ex-boyfriend. I asked him to do simple things, like go to the movies, cook dinner with me, take wine and painting classes. But the idea of a date to him was a bar, drinks, maybe some dancing, and then back to his or my place. We were boring, except during the time we had sex. I worked hard to get this man to be more hopeless romantic, and less maniacal sex fiend.

But, it didn't work. He threatened our relationship. He called me selfish. Then he cheated on me. For seven months while I tried to be celibate, we went through this song and dance. And I would break my celibacy for him, because I was so weak to it. Until five months ago, I realized we needed a break. And for five months, I have been sexless.

I could say sex-free. But the truth is I'm tortured. I'm haunted by the loneliness. The nights I'm in bed alone, I sometimes stare at the four walls of my room in the dark, as the moonlight cascades off of them, and wish an incubus would come rescue me from mental purgatory.

Imagine someone, calling lack of sex mental purgatory. Only the lowly and shameful can use such a word, with such confident allegation. My therapist calls my use of wording, dramatic yet anti-climactic. The theatrics never follow through, and he says, I'm lost in the mentality of dependency. He says I've not gotten over my lack of closure in my relationships, and that companionship should aid in my lowliness.

He suggested I adopt a pet, with one of my exe's name. This way, when I was ready to confront my issues, I could say it to my pet. And I could help by giving a lonely pet a home, thus, fulfilling my need to nurture and love a being that won't be unrequited. In other words, Kill two birds with one stone. I straight up believe, that is animal abuse. So, instead, I have a dog, and my dog is named after my ex, but I shortened it, when I realized he didn't deserve that insult.

But... when he decides to act like a butthole, I call him "Enzo." And the everyday name is "Zozo." Zozo is the beautiful little being that cuddles me, so I forget about being rescued by an incubus. So, he fulfills my capacity of being loved. Now, for the classic release of endorphins, associated with sex addiction, I discovered a coping mechanism that frightens and excites me all at once. Skinny dipping. Two months ago, I started swimming naked at night, to imitate the feeling of sex. Apparentl, the release of endorphins, is what helps my brain and my body to cope with the freedom, that I've chosen to let go of. And another beautiful thing about Zozo, is the fact that, I feel that love, I lacked. That acceptance.

But, I won't lie, when I say, I look at the advice I took from my therapist, and I felt like a complete whack job. My dog, is spoiled by me, and half the time, I can't even bother finding companionship, because he wants all of my attention.

Oh well, as I pull into my beach front, dream home, all that goes out the window. The peace of the oceans waves crashing at night, and the visual of the moonlight cascading off the water, is enough to accept this journey of loneliness. For five months, I've only spoken to my parents, my dog, my grams, my therapist and my agent. That's five people and a dog.

I've formed no formal, or informal connections to newer people. I can barely say hi to strangers. But, I vow, that being here, I'm going to step out of my head, and back into the world. I'm going to open myself up, and allow genuine connections to open me up, for the possibility of actual love.

 **...**

This property is just as I remember it, from childhood. I love the lost romantic look of a classic nineties beachfront. The wood is scratched, the stairs are a little rickety, but the trees surrounding it, make for a private living. The only open windows, not covered by trees, and bushes, are the ones that face the neighbor. And that happens to be a wide open visual to the inside of my house.

Curtains will do. I tell myself, that. But I'm honestly not focused on it.

I can do this. It's new, but I can do this.

I work hard with the guys in the moving truck behind me, to get my things in my house in a timely manner. The quicker they leave, the better for me. I bust my ass, sweating and what not. After about two hours, I'm sick of re-pinning my messy hair, so I put it in a bun. Then, I take a breather on my porch steps, and sit down, while the sweat on my body drips to the dead, and weathered wood, beneath my feet. These stupid strands of hair keep falling in my eyes, and the way these movers are looking at me, is making me wanna go masturbate.

"Ma'am, there's only a couple more boxes. Would you like for us to put anything together for you? Your bed, tv stand, tables?"

"No, thank you. I can handle it." I tell them. I don't need them coming in and then hoping for some sort of personal payment. Hell no. I may have an addiction, but god forbid, any man does it for me. It's simply not true. I tend to lean towards the bad boys, who stare longer than they should, have a significant trademark sex appeal, and have a dark, lonely, artistic side. Poets, painters, musicians, dancers, etcetera etcetera.

Even if, those types are bad for me.

But, when it all boils down to it, I just want someone who understands me, and my recklessness. And someone who doesn't believe my addiction is challenged as neediness. And most importantly, someone who needs to be lost as much as myself. I'm not a serial dater. I'm a hopeless romantic. The last thing I need, is another serial dater, trying to claim they care about me, when all they want is my lady bits. I'm too honest a person for that. Which is why I kind of cut myself off from people lately. The fear of opening up to people who aren't who they appear to be, is a vulnerability of mine.

"Okay, sweetheart. We just finished. We'll be headin out." He taller one says.

"Thanks for everything. Uhh, there's some water bottles and sandwiches in the fridge, help yourself."

"Gee thanks." The two men gladly go inside and take what they can, and as they do, I turn and notice, a beautiful raven-haired man on the other side of the front bushes. He's with a camera in hand, and he's looking at the sky. When I see him raise his camera to take a shot, I sigh. How the hell can he point that lens at this grey sky and take a shot. It's hideous out here. There's nothing but a grey sky. Then I look up and notice a large black cloud, he focuses on it, takes a few shots, and runs back in hiding. What happened to the blue sky from this morning? I'm supposing this means it's going to rain. Still, he notices me, and goes back inside.

"Peculiar." And I think to myself, good, the less I have to see an attractive artist-type, the better for me. I walk back inside, and wait for the movers to leave, because momma needs a cold shower, and a good book.

 **..oOo..**

I sit at my house a few days understanding it. The energy is busy. I try hard to cleanse it. Too many wild renters my dad let use this place. I look inside of my house for a reason to leave today, but I simply cannot. I love being here. It's a little bare, but it's to be expected until I cleanse it.

The last few nights I've gone swimming, it was a little scary. My first time in the ocean. I used to jump in pools. But there is something far more accepting and fearful to the ocean. The possibility of disappearing, the possibility of being seen, it's just such a danger zone. That ups my endorphins release, and therefore helps me forget about sex.

I love this.

 **...oOo...**

I hate this.

Today I went online to check for an audition I'd heard about. I prayed for the date of this audition to post, because I'd wanted to audition for this show for months now. It made sense for me. Something new and amazing, for my new change in life. Then I look for the composers and bands hired to do music. And then, I look for the choreographers. And there it is, big as day. His name.

Elijah Mikaelson. The man I lost my virginity too. The man, who, for two years, made me into the best dancer I could possibly be, yet tarnished every ounce of self-esteem I could possibly have about myself back then. It took a lot for me to regain my confidence.

He and I agreed, he'd stay away from my future auditions, since he could get gigs, literally anywhere. But the truth is, he looks forward to these gigs, and all of the dancers that come along with it. He thinks all dancers are groupies. I hate him.

He won't let me find peace, and all I see, is him cornering me. He'll gladly strut around me, with other women. So, it's clear.. I won't audition for this show.

Phone rings.

"Hello?... Oh, hi, Hayley... No... I actually won't be auditioning... I know, it's a dream role, but... I just got a new place, and I think I should focus on getting it together... but, if you went for the role, I wouldn't be angry. I think you should go for it... I support you... Of course... No, no... don't feel bad. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. You've got a couple months to prepare, so, go for it... Yeah... You're welcome. Break a leg."

The moment I hung up the phone, I tried to hold in all the emotions. But it was hard. I walk outside and let the crashing waves filter my eardrums from all of the awful thoughts buzzing in my head. The way my dream was crashing before my eyes. The way this man, promised he'd not do this gig, so that I could audition. And his name is at the top of the choreography roster. I sit in the sand, and try to stay positive, but honestly, tears fall from my eyes in broad daylight. And although, I know it's healthy to cry, I'm just going to pray no one can see me. "Fuck you Elijah. Fuck you!"

I should call him, and tell him how I feel. I should call him, and let him know he's wrong. For all intent and purposes, I stop the thoughts, regardless of my therapist's advice. I don't give it a voice, because, I'm too good for the anger. He doesn't deserve my tears. And somehow, he gets them, still.

I say it to the wind instead, and the wind carries it out to the water, and I pray it drifts away.

 **..oOo..**

I got away with playing fetch for a few days, reading books, and diving into the black sea every night. I felt the cold water on my body, and sometimes the water stroked my pussy like a cock. I swam, and relaxed, and swam, and often focused so much on the waters force, that I'd almost have an orgasm. It was phenomenal what the water could do to a hot and bothered body. I was lonely and the water was my man. I was the heat and the water was my cold. And I can't help but to wonder who else in the world, gambles on mind psychosis, the way I do to battle sex addiction.

As I head out of the water I see my neighbor's tv go off. Luckily, it's too dark to see me. Because I need these late-night dives, to clear my head. He'd probably call the cops, if he knew what I was doing.

 **...**

For the first time in my life... I realized, I live next door to my worst nightmare. I met my neighbor today. He's always hiding in that house of his. But, today he was outside and I introduce myself. Even if he doesn't seem to want to meet me.

He was kind of an asshole. That's my luck, attracting assholes, but this guy, seemed really off-put my me. "I'm Bonnie by the way."

"I'm Damon." I still smiled, even though he just kept staring at my forehead. He is a beautiful man, that's for sure. And I'm not intimidated by it. Rather, he reminds me of the kind of man you meet at a hotel for casual yet, forbidden sex. The kind of man that breaks hearts. I just fought every urge to bite my lip, and it wasn't hard, because not before long during our conversation did a psychotic woman pull up, and make a huge scene.

I realize he's trouble, and we know, I don't need trouble. I walk way, and decided I need to take my dog out on the beach and play fetch. "Forget you saw the blue-eyed man." I tell myself. I concentrate of Zozo. He loves the attention. We play fetch for a little bit.

Then suddenly a loud thud breaks my concentration. A woman's body slammed into the glass of my neighbor's house. He's having sex in broad daylight. What in the...? I wanna turn away but I can, I'm mesmerized. Watching his hands planted firmly on the glass, and her, riding his cock like a bicycle. All I imagine, is how that position, instantly stimulates the g-spot. Not to mention, he must understand that, the angry face he's making, only makes the stimulation that much more unbearable, because that is the face of a man who knows his dick size, and ain't ashamed of it. My pussy tingles just watching, and I stare for at least two minutes before I realize I must look like a pervert. My chest tightened, and I felt a shock hit me in the nether regions again. He rams himself into her once, and I see her scream, and I can't take it. They're crazy, fucking in the window like that. Reminds me of Enzo, in the beginning, and I can't watch this. I grab Zozo and run further down the beach, before either of them notice me.

This goes on three more times, before I eventually confront him. I see him fuck this woman in his window, with no remorse for the neighbors. And every night, I have to go for a swim, even longer than the night before to keep from being triggered. It's not the two of them that gets me. It's him. He's angry. He angry fucks, and although I remember how toxic that can be, I remember how angry sex felt in my core. Rough cock, is guaranteed effort, and I loved to be fucked hard. But this, is another level of sex. This is Voyeurism.

One night, I'm out for a swim, and I think he did it on purpose. He fucked her and waited for me to swim. And somehow, that turned me on. It was wrong I know. His girlfriend, doesn't deserve this. Even if she's a bitch, she can't possibly know where his mind is. But, she kind of comes over here, and becomes reckless, and leaves. It's unhealthy. But I can't help that he haunts me every day now. Those blue eyes, and pink lips, linger in my brain. His torso, and his rough style, hit me in the gut, needing it. The worst part is, just looking at him, and remembering his voice, has given me wet dreams. I wake up, wet, and all I see is his fuck faces. The angry faces. The demanding faces. The sweaty forehead, and menacing glances.

The night he watches me while he fucks her, made me dripping wet. He thrusted, hard, and wild, and all the while he never took his eyes off of me, and mine never left him. I almost feel like he's wishing, he were fucking me, and maybe, I'm wrong. Maybe he's just a pervert. But, there was some strange connection, where I felt him inside of my head. And for the first time in five months, I'm feeling like I'm gonna relapse. A wicked grin hits my face, and he takes it as a challenge, before losing his breath in this woman. This woman I envy, wishing I was her. I Jen, cover my body, and head inside for a cold shower.

My reality may be harsh, but my imagination, when it comes to him, is me, letting him fuck me like crazy. And all this build up, fucked me in the head so much, I let it take over. I went in my house and touched myself. I used my fingers to touch my pussy and I remembered how much I had overcome. No. I can't do this. I stop myself.

He's just a person. A person, I hardly know. He's no one. My sanity, is more important than that narcissistic, voyeurist, and his psychotic girlfriend. If I can wake up tomorrow, and pretend this didn't happen, I will.

 **...**

Everything in my world is tainted. I imagine all of the worst things about Blue-eyes last night. Then today, I saw him on the beach. Calm as a clam, taking pictures of sand crabs. He struggled for a while, and I watched his ass. His literal butt. It's kind of cute. I don't think he could help that his shorts were so low on his hips, I could see the top of his crack.

It was kind of sexy, watching the muscles of his ass as he tried to wiggle around and get a good shot. But instead of feeling like a pervert, I approach him. I try to help, and he, was reluctant to take it. As we talk to each other, he keeps looking at my forehead. He won't look me in the eyes, and it's making me nervous. So, I babble like an idiot. I'm doing that "lack of filter" thing my therapist says I do. I become very blunt and honest. But, to the point it makes people uncomfortable. I sat next to him, and as he rises to be at my eye level, I almost felt my soul reach outta my body. And grab him, with my hands on his face.

"Damon look at me."

I hold him close to me and look. God, he's... he's really enigmatic. And, to keep myself from kissing him, I just bite my fucking lip. My chest takes in deep breaths, and he's so close, to me, but so far. I feel him inside of his head, reaching for me, and he's talking with his eyes.

His icy blue eyes are penetrating my soul, and everything about him, brings this sudden calm over me. Never, has touching another man, made me feel calm. Men, keep me on edge, but this one, keeps me on my toes. And the more I feel his skin on mine, the more I want to lay naked with him. The smell of his freshly showered body, and the way he watched me last night, while he fucked her.

By the way, I found out isn't his girlfriend, just a woman he'd had hooked up with. No wonder there's no clear energy between them. They're all sex, and no emotions. But, he's so dry, I'm not sure he's capable of emotional vulnerability.

He wants to kiss me. I can feel it. I think I'm going to do it. I'm going to kiss him. I'm just going to be reckless and lay it on him. Until he says, "Why are you doing this?"

And now, it's awkward. I did something wrong, and now, I need to go back home and take a cold shower. "I don't know. So, I'm going to go back to the house now. Just came to say, hi."

"Where's Enzo?"

"The house. He didn't feel like fetch."

I keep my cool, and go inside and hit up a cold shower. I needed it. It calmed me, and gave me a moment of clarity. I should quit invading his privacy. Everything was better before I got here. I assume my loneliness, is what's making me act out of the ordinary. Maybe if I call someone familiar, I can get through this. Damon, is triggering me, and as much as I'm fighting it, I fear that one more episode of "fuck me harder" in his window, or even a visual of his naked body can set me over the edge.

I'm sure, I'll wake up tomorrow, and life will go back to being positive, and spiritual, and more about my strength, than my weakness.

He can't be at crass and cocky, to fuck in his window again, can he?

 **...oOo...**

"She's sucking his dick!" I yell out to myself, as I walk inside. I laugh hysterically. I speed walk into my room, and instead of invading his life, again, and watching his beautiful body fuck someone, who's not me, I put on a dress and walk to my front yard. I have to laugh about this. I just, I don't get it. "Who does he think he is? He's like... he's totally reckless. I mean, he said, she's not his girlfriend, and even gave her the whole crazy spiel. And like an idiot, I believed him."

Yes, I am aware I'm talking to myself. And I don't care, he's too busy fucking her, to notice. And honestly, God, is punishing me, by allowing me to feel these things about a stranger, and then violently exposing me to my insecurities and weakness every time I see him fucking in his window. "No fucking remorse! No pun intended." I laugh again. This is funny. It has to be funny, because, the life of an addict, is never a dull one. I walk to my porch, I sit on the worn and weathered, old wood. I pray I don't get a splinter, and I remove my bikini top, and toss it on the porch somewhere, because my breasts were asking to breath. Either that, or just the sight of his cock in her mouth, has me hot and bothered.

I pick up my cell phone, and dial the one number I said I wouldn't dial. At least not til I was ready. But, I couldn't help it. I hear it ring.

 _Please don't pick up. Please don't pick up. Please don't pick up._

"Why hello, love."

 _FUCK! He picked up._

"Lorenzo?"

"Yes. You called my phone, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

"No, darling, I assure you I'm happy to hear from you. Please don't hang up. You've not called for months, and it kills me... the way things ended."

"Lorenzo, I-uh... I just thought I'd say hi. And see how you're doing?"

"I'll be good once I see your face. I miss you like crazy. Please come home."

"No, I like my new place, and I'm happy here. It's just-"

"You miss me? Because, I miss you. Where are you? Let me see you."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. I just wanted to check on you."

"No, love, something's wrong, I can hear it in your voice. Please, let me come see you. Whatever it is, let me be there for you."

"I don't need-"

"That's your problem, you're too stubborn. And I can tell you need a friend. I hug, and shoulder. Tell me where you are, and I'll come to talk. Just talk, okay. I promise, everything will be alright. I've changed, I swear it."

I sat and thought for a bit. He gave me silence, and I thought about it. What's celibacy anyways? No. No. No sex. If he can talk, then so can I. "Okay. I'll-umm, text you my address."

"Perfect love. Hurry. Don't leave me waiting."

Just like that, I gave in and texted him. Five months of not having spoken to him, and just like that I was a puddle of wound up nerves. I text him, hit send, and then that girlfriend of Damon's comes at me raging like a lunatic. "It's your fault. You FUCKING whore. What does he see in you? You're so mediocre, compared to me. I don't fucking get it."

No, this bitch di'ent! I turn and look at my house, to see if someone was behind me, then I look at her, and back behind me, to see if I was losing my GD mind.

"Who are you talking to?"

"You. He watches you, closely. You're always there, outside of his window, giving him a reason to drift off and daydream. What is it about you? And why can't you stay in your got damn house. This is all your fault." She looks like she wants to hit me, and if so that would be a mistake on her part.

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" She walks up my drive way, and I tell her, "One more step on my property and I'll make you regret, ever looking at me sideways." She thought twice, then hurried back to her car, and sped off. A lotta nerve she has blaming me, for the man she fucks, forcing me into relapsing. I'm sick of this. I storm over there, and let him know, how his actions have consequences.

I started off really calm, because he has rights to privacy. But, the general lack of emotion from him, frustrated me, and eventually it started to show through my dialogue, when I fumbled over words, letting his aura tackle me. But the worst part was my betraying eyes that wouldn't stop ogling his torso. The way he stood half naked and unbothered, and how his pants weren't even all the way buckled up, and I could see more of his happy trail, then I wanted to. I saw every vein in his body, protrude, and those hands of his were strong.

I remember telling him he fucks a lot, and he fucks her like an animal. I'm not sure why I chose those words. I was just being honest. "Watching you fuck her, was most certainly my trigger."

"I'm sorry." He said, along with some other choice words, but I was too distracted by his body to remember.

He's addictive. I have to walk away, because everything about him, forces this weakness inside of me.

On the verge of tears, I turn to leave and he grabs my arm. Again, I felt this surge of energy pull at my insides, when he touched me. Still, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't touch him, or I'd never forgive myself, for it. But, I'm not sure I'd be opposed to him manhandling me, right here in this very house he commits the rest of his fraudulent love affairs.

But I realize it's more than sex with him. For me, it's his emotional unattachment. He seems to have remorse, and in his icy blue eyes, I felt a little warmth. When he stood behind me, holding me, his other arm trailed up my back and around my waist. I don't know if he realizes he did it, but he gripped my hip with his other hand. Then reached all the way around, and let his hand caress the lowest area of my stomach just above my pussy. He sniffed my hair, and my neck, and tightened his grip on my arm, almost aggressively. He's fucking strong, letting his hands be so bold. The free hand, dug a little deeper into my frontal zone. He wanted to cup my heat, with his fingers, I think... and just before I let him, I loosened his grip and forced myself to walk away.

He and I are too explosive. One of us had to walk away. And there was no victor here. We both lost this battle. But now, my panties are wet, and Lorenzo is coming, and I can't fuck Lorenzo tonight. Maybe, he can eat my pussy... if I get weak enough. No! No. That's my weakness, and he knows it. I'm forced to deal with this.

This blue-eyed man is the devil in disguise.

But, one things for sure, I can't get him out of my mind, and now I'm throbbing beyond control. Every inch of my womanhood, pulses so achingly deep, I could scream. It's what I call "the ache." It's not going away until I relieve it in some way.

God, I was doing so got damn well, until this man interrupted my world with his libido, and sexual prowess. And to make matters worse, he's just a reclusive photographer, imprisoned by the beauty of the destructive nature in which we reside. He's a tortured artist. And we all know, what tortured artists types do to me.

I'm really fucked.

 **oOo**

Lorenzo has been here for an hour. And I can't get Damon out of my mind. But, I think he's gone for the night, because his lights are off. And that's better for me, because when he's here, I imagine myself going over to his place, and attacking him. I know, it's far off, and I'd never do it. But the fantasy is there, and as long as it exists... I'm not healing the way I should be. I stand across the room from Lorenzo, nervously. He came here wearing the cologne I love, and he's got a smooth-shaven face.

He knows a smooth face for me, and him, means he wants to eat my pussy. He does things purposely to rile up my insides. A stay at least fifteen feet away at all times, to keep from smelling his aftershave. He beats me with his dark, almost black eyes...

"Yes, it's been a while, but you seem to be doing well for yourself."

"I am, actually. It's been nice out here, away from the city."

"Yeah, I see. The city has a lot of temptation." He smirks.

"Yeah, but... I'm so far past that." I try to convince him, so he doesn't try and touch me. "Seriously. I'm past it."

"Yeah, yeah." A sinful grin flashes just as quickly as it disappears on his face. "I'm sure you are. You look... fucking amazing. You have that audition, in a couple of months, don't you love? The one you've been waiting for."

"Oh, no... I-uh... decided to let Hayley go for it. I thought about it, and I'm just trying new ventures in my life."

"Is that so?" He's not convinced.

"Yes. My private instructions are going well, and I'm even being endorsed to possibly work for the performing arts high school... as a principal choreographer. So, yeah..." I raise my brows and drop them in relegation and concede to the floor with my glances.

"You're a natural born performer. It makes no sense. I know you're not... this isn't about..." he put his hand on his chin. "Is this about that dance prick Elijah Mikaelson? Tell me, you're not that weak, Bonnie... love? He's mere... muscle wrapped in loin cloth. You want a real man, then wait for the guy in leather. Not the sissy with the tights." He laughed.

"Wow, you're such a jack ass. He's not a sissy."

"Well, maybe not a sissy, but, he's definitely... not a man."

"Why are you such a jerk?"

"I'm kidding, love." I role my eyes, and don't talk for five minutes. I always hated when he said hateful things about people I worked with or once cared for. But he breaks the ice... "You still remember that time we were rehearsing, and had sex in Elijah's office?"

Now that was funny, I thought. "Yeah. Oh my God, we did, didn't we?" I started to laugh. "And, we broke his swivel chair, and he never figured it out. He thought he was, getting quote on quote fat, because you told him, his age was catching g up with him." God, Lorenzo did have my back with Elijah. I loved those times, that he made Elijah feel insecure. And I laugh, because those are the memories I loved to have with Lorenzo.

"It's crazy, he thought his scale was broken, because he weighed the same, but when he bought another chair, we broke that one too." And the beat goes on, the memories, I'd almost forgotten about, when he started cheating on me, after I decided to become celibate. Why couldn't it stay this way, when I decided to do better? I think it's because aside from sex, and him proving to be better than Elijah, Lorenzo never really got to know me. And it was kind of shallow. Which, made me so lonely. In turn, I wanted to become celibate to find myself, and to see if he could really love more than my body. Because with him:

Everything was about sex.

We never made love. Ever.

He never looked me in the eyes.

Or caressed my skin.

He never took his time, and made sure I was just as into it, as he was.

And he never learned my body with his cock, only his tongue.

It's lazy, in my opinion. I mean, any man can use his tongue and fingers and focus on the g-spot, or the clit, but a real man, learns how to make his dick do what it should do. Maybe... how about, don't cum in five minutes? And, what if you took your time, and let me feel every inch of you caress every inch of me, and focused on the feeling of us connecting? The feel of the hardness of your muscle, pushing through the softness of my lips, and somewhere in there, us connecting in the heat of the colliding forces. I just, wanted to feel him, while he felt me, and for us to be fully present in what was happening, sexually. And he was very selfish sexually. But, when it came to oral pleasure, he didn't miss a beat. He strummed me the way he strummed his guitar.

And suddenly I'm so deep in my thoughts it takes me back to that place. And I blurt out "Why? Why couldn't I be enough? Why couldn't we be soft instead of hard? Why couldn't we be high instead of low? Warm, instead of cold? Free, instead of prisoners?"

His face went from smiling to grim and he looked at me, and my dog has been barking for minutes now, and he yells, "Fucking mutt."

"He's not a mutt, and he needs to pee. So, let me take him out." I yelled back. Just like that we went from laughter to pain. The same song and dance.

"Hurry up and come back inside."

"Stop. I'm walking him. It takes him a while." Why did I call him? He's such an asshole.

"Hey, I came, because you called me. I haven't seen you in months. You won't talk to me. I miss you. Now I'm waiting because of the bloody dog. Give me a break." He's so cocky. Everything has to always be about him. And we start arguing. I'm over it, I can't handle him needing to be validated all the time, when I'm the one, who didn't have validation in our relationship. I gave him everything, and he was so selfish.

Eventually it's the same song and dance, he calls my addiction a pathetic excuse for attention, and makes me feel like I'm crazy for believing it to be a problem. I want to slap him, and now my dog has disappeared, because he hates Lorenzo. Mind you, this is only his second time seeing him.

I leave Lorenzo in his own self-pity and disappear into the night. Before I realize it, Damon sneaks up on me. And on one hand I'm angry, I don't wanna see him, after he pulled that window stunt earlier. But on the other hand, the feeling I get when I'm near him, is overcompensating for the anger it brings me, when I remember how he keeps fucking that psycho in his window.

I go back and forth with Lorenzo for a while, before all sound fades. And the only noise is the breaths both Damon and I are taking, and the words we let slip through our lips, as we mumble our way into each other's personal space. And then, for once, I am validated.

He grabs my face, and did to me, what I did to him. He just looks. And he's not staring at my forehead for once. He's looking in my eyes, and now, I'm the one who's afraid of what is happening between us. He wipes my tears and I'm not sure why I let him. But I did.

He needs me, I feel it. He's reaching out for me, and he wants to say something more, or do something more, then he puts his lips to mine and instead of kissing me he just speaks. "God, I want you. I really want you. Which is really weird. Because we're practically strangers, and you deserve better than a guy like me." What does that even mean?

"That's too bad." I really didn't care what he was saying. I wanted him too. And the feeling right now, between us was powerful.

("Bonnie!") Lorenzo keeps calling me.

"I should go."

"Who is he?" He demanded.

"The ex."

"The one you had no closure from?"

"Yes." He's still holding my face and won't let me go.

"You guys back together?" I didn't answer. How do I answer that? I'm so lost. "Do you love him?" I remained quiet. "Is he, the reason, you're crying?"

"I cry, every day. It's good for me."

"And today... why are you crying?"

"I'm crying, because, I have no will power."

("BONNIE!") He called again, and I got up, forcing him to let my face go.

"Go away Lorenzo!" He slammed her door closed again, because he knows I hate it. And I can't tell Damon, I'm a sex addict, that is triggered by the mere thought of him, fucking someone, wishing it was me. I can't explain that I'm hypersexual, and I want to sit on his cock and lose my soul in his, while giving him all of the beautiful imagines I think up, in a night of pure pleasure.

Nope. I can't do any of it. And, the next moments were a blur as they happened. He helped me find my dog, and I just wanted to thank him, with a hug. "Thanks for helping me find Zozo." I reached to hug him, and I'm a real hugger. Not a faux hugger. When I grab his body, and pull him to me, his rock hard, cock, pokes me in the stomach. And all I could think, was fuck my life for being so short. I wanted to feel him pressed between my legs. And somehow, he was embarrassed. And I don't know why, because I want him inside of me now.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't- fuck this is embarrassing." She boldly looked down at my erect pants, and back up at me. "Bonnie, I'm so FUCKING sorry, it's not what you think-" I looked at him for a half a second, and then rushed him with my lips. I couldn't handle the separation any longer. I needed to feel everything that was hard, of him, against everything that was soft of me. His over-powering kiss, was so dominant, I had to fight back with my own tactics. And in doing this, I almost suffocated him with my pressure, and desire to connect to him. I'm not even sure I'm kissing that great right now, because I just want to show his body, that my body thanks him. I pull up to see if I'm overstepping my boundaries, and he was dazed, and lost, like he needed my lips back on his, and I smiled, and attacked him again. I feel his hard chest against my soft chest, and my nipples were so happy to have him against me. Then, eventually I calmed down my kiss and made love to his mouth with my own. As if to let my kiss prove the type of lover I can go from either end of the spectrum, whatever to suit his needs. If we fucked against this tree I wouldn't even be mad, just let me feel his cock once against my... ohhhhh myyyy gooddd, he lifted me, and now, he's pressed in the right place at the right time, fuck the clothes we are wearing for keeping us from fully connecting. Just, once, I think a man, can give me what I desire sexually. And it's a glorious feeling, him wanting what I want, and I want to feel, what it feels like to accept him, inch for inch, inside of me. Five months, it's been. Five months! I need him inside of me, regardless if Lorenzo is somewhere around here. I hope he took a hint and went home.

My pussy aches, it throbs. "The ache" has returned. And my mind is pleading... fuck me Damon. Fuck me, in every way possible, and let me see, what it means to connect fully. He's hungry for me, because I feel his abs tightening, while he holds his breath.

Now, the more I felt his dick, the more I whimpered in anticipation. I felt weak to his touch "Please..." I whisper. "Touch me..." We were tuned into this moment, while the world was tuned out. I felt him wanting to fuck me, like rules didn't apply to us, as strangers.

I loved it the sound of his zipper coming down, after he unfastened his pants, like a junkie, needing a fix. He held my body close, while I anticipated the arrival of his body inside of mine. He practically rips my bikini bottoms off, and the moment, I felt the softest skin of his hardest muscle touch my clit... I bit my fucking lip, to keep from moaning out loud. And, it's been so long since I've had sex, that I'm almost positive it's going to hurt at first, I don't care. I'm throbbing with an insatiable ache. And I'm not sure I can ever forgive this moment if it doesn't happen. "Fuck." I whisper into the air as he begins to penetrate me.

He's about to destroy me. I can feel it. Good gawd! He sure is blessed, and healthy, and strong, and hard. He's barely touching me and I'm about to lose my mind. Five months is all I can think in my head, while he forces me to drip before he's even inside of me.

The universe is aligned and everything makes sense right now. Holding him, felt like holding my peace of mind, my sanity, and a beginning of something beautiful. He was everything, that I wasn't, and everything that I was, and I want him more than I want oxygen.

("BONNIE!") Lorenzo called again, disrupting us. And everything my therapist said to me about my addiction was hitting my brain, but one thing the therapist didn't realize, was somewhere in this world, not every man wants to wreck me, hurt me, or abandon me. And I have to be willing to take a chance, or I'll be stuck in my head forever, always wondering, if a man in this world, could lose himself in me the way I wanted to lose myself in him. I was ready to lose myself, because, I'd been so tightly wound my entire life, Damon, felt like... the moment I could take a chance.

But, his conscience hit him, when again, Lorenzo, couldn't take a hint. ("BONNIE!") he yelled, out again.

Suddenly, Damon stopped.

"You should go. He's waiting." He actually said that to me. I paused in shock, but I didn't care, and I wanted him to not care for a moment too.

"I don't care. I don't fucking care. Just… Fuck me." I put it all out there, and laid it on the line.

Then I heard the worst thing, he could've said in a moment like this. "I'm not in a good place. And I'm not ready for this kind of commitment, Bonnie-" then, every part of my softness, felt rejected, by every part of his hardness. Wow.

"I see."

"That's not what I meant-"

"It's fine." And just like that, I turned off every emotion to him. He rejected me, in the worse way, any man could reject me. Then, he tried to speak again, and I cut him off. "I'll see you later." And not only did I cut him off in the moment, but I cut him off.

All the way.

I put myself out there, and I made a fool of myself.

("Bonnie!") and I remember, Lorenzo is there, and I'm aching deep in the depths of my being, in more ways than one. Damon's stands there, and I don't look back, ever. I walk in my house, and Lorenzo, is there with a glass of wine for me.

"Come on, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you." He speaks out softly, with that deep, raspy, musicians voice of his.

"Lorenzo, I just want to have a momentary lapse in judgement. Nothing crazy."

"Say no more."

He shut my door, pulls me to him and strips me of every ounce of clothing. Then he carries my naked body into the bedroom, and gives me my wine.

I know I shouldn't. I know it's wrong. But, I'm only human. I'm not perfect. I'm like anyone else, who wants to feel loved, or wanted. He lays me out, and first he turns me on my stomach, spreading me cheeks, and puts his face to my ass. "Fuck." I can't think straight. He puts his tongue in places I didn't know they could go, and he takes his time for some reason.

Then he flips me over, and places his mouth where Damon's dick last touched. And I should feel bad, but I don't. Men are assholes. I let him touch my pussy with his fingers and mouth... for I don't even remember how long. And he takes care of me, so I'm not laying there tonight, crying from the ache that occurs, when I'm worked up and let down.

Yes, women get "the ache" too. And it's painful, and it hurts our whole being when our pussy aches. Body, heart, and soul. Damon did that to me.

You think I'm crazy, huh? So, you never felt that? Okay... welcome to the life of a nymphomaniac. Uncontrollable aches, and pains, related to the pressure built up, and never released. The thoughts of insignificance, and rejection. It hurts to feel like I'm a sick freak, for knowing what I like. Why should I be condemned because I like to be touched? If your pussy, cried, the way mine does, for touch, you'd understand. But, I'm here, having not been touched in months. The ache, makes me cry myself to sleep at night. It makes me take cold showers, and sit with my legs squeezed together. It's disruptive, and I was strong for five months. After a few weeks, the ache slowly faded, to a pain. It's downgraded to sharp pain every few hours. Lorenzo, used to build me up, when he wanted to torture me. And he'd make me go hours sometimes. It was a control mechanism, he taunted me with.

But tonight... Damon did this to me. And I'll never forget this.

For the next few weeks I don't swim naked. Lorenzo scratches my itch with his mouth. I won't let him fuck me. But he can eat my pussy, and in turn I'll give him a few hand jobs. I'm not sure what it means for us, but... maybe we will eventually connect the way Damon and I, just naturally do. I don't know. For now, if I don't see Damon again, I won't be angry.

He's got issues to sort through, and so do I.

We should stay far away from one another.

Yeah, I'm about more than just sex. I'm about acceptance. And when I accepted him, he classically, rejected me.

Lesson learned.

* * *

 **A/N- Next chapter back to Damon's POV, but how did you feel about Bonnie? Her thoughts in comparison to Damon? I hope I did his justice. Thanks for reading!**


	4. WITHDRAWAL

**Addict**

 **Part 4- WITHDRAWAL**

 **R-M**

 **Sorry this took a while. I decided to make this chapter longer, so I extended on it. I**

 **worried about Bonnie's POV changing the perception of the story but honestly, all will be revealed by the time the story ends, with her anyways. We are Back to Damon's POV, and I'm hoping that you enjoy the chapter. :)**

* * *

I think I waited a total of five nights... no, maybe a week, before I realized all of the things I possibly did wrong when it came to the midnight woman. Number one, of course, I committed inappropriate acts more than once, for her display. Not, for her... but, coincidentally, displayed simultaneously while she was in plain view. Two, I showed interest. As aloof, as I was, and felt, I still asked questions. Not only about her but her dog. I allowed her to believe, I was interested, which showed general care or concern. Number three, I objectified her, when I fucked Elena in the window, while watching her. I turned her into an object of lust. Of course, at the time I had no idea, she was tortured the way I was. Number four, I showed signs of jealousy. Telling her I didn't like her dogs name, and asking questions about this man, and wondering if she loved still. Number five, I showed desperation for her. My need and greed were increasingly demanding, as I couldn't let her out of my sights, for even a second to go back to him. Number six, I gave her the false hope that I could be better than him. I came in at a moment she was weak, and I knew she was weak. I heard her words, as she yelled at him. I listened to her cries, and comforted her. I was a shoulder to cry on, and when she was at a moment of absolute weakness, I targeted her, and went in for the kill. I fed on every last bit of her utter need for me, and I ate it up. I swallowed it whole... I swallowed- her whole. I let her make me feel absolute hope, and then finally, number seven... I let her down. I took the one thing I could take from her, that she wanted to give me, and left it in the air... without so much as an afterthought on how I was making her relapse.

And now, I'm tortured by having every waking thought of her. I'm tortured by how much I want her, and don't have her, and at this point... will probably never have her, after the mess I've made.

* * *

 **...**

 **Tuesday Therapy - A few weeks later**

 **...**

My therapist stare at me, like I was a new man. Therapists are confusing. They speak, and ask questions, and focus their practice on remaining neutral. But, once in a while, a smirk, a forehead wrinkle in confusion, or even an eyebrow raise, reminds you, how you're such a work in progress. You begin imagining that your worth is determined through these sessions. It's an individual interpretation. Therapists can't control the way our minds work, thus they attempt to help us understand ourselves better through scientific analyzation.

Today, she looked at me, and gave me a milestone stare. I didn't even realize what I had done right or wrong. I just slowed down and stopped speaking. She took a few notes and smiled.

"Damon, I'm really confounded by your personal growth over the past month. Really the past couple of months, but most recently. In the past month, you've experienced and demonstrated, maturity in regard to your personal relationship outlooks."

"Seriously? I feel like I sound like a lost puppy. Like a sap. Like a guy whose shiny ruby was taken away, from him."

"You used to speak often and frequently about your need for sex. Then about five months ago you came to me, feeling lack of connections. You didn't know what to make of it. It confused you, that you even noticed. Then about two to three months ago, you had started making personal connections with women. Not multiple women. A couple of them. First, the Elena. Then, after that wasn't what you'd realized you needed. You were finding what was and wasn't working for you. Now, you speak about a profound connection that's touched you to the point of... having not spoken of sex importance in a month, and in the past two sessions, you didn't even say the word sex. The most frequently used word by you in recent weeks, **deep connection, emotional attachment, vulnerability, building trust.** Do you realize this?"

"I didn't notice." I'm aware my motives seem different. I feel differently. I didn't ask for this. I'm just, trying my hand at wanting to feel normal, now I guess. I don't tell the therapist this. She will over analyze it, and I just want to keep some of my uncertainties to myself. I can't give all of me away.

"Damon, you're opening yourself for the possibility of a committed relationship."

"I don't want to commit to anyone else."

"Anyone else?"

"I said that wrong."

"No, you didn't. Elaborate, please." At this point I have to sigh, because I walked into this trap. And, so be it... I may as well at least say a few things about it. Here goes.

"I committed to someone, years ago. She used to cheat. I was young, and stupid, and allowed her to hold me with sex. Our relationship became, just sex. Only sex. I thought sex and love were equal at one point in time. Until, I realized she was still having sex with other men. I stayed with her for about three years of this."

"Damon, you show classic signs of someone damaged by previous relationship trauma."

"I don't like blaming things on my past."

"Our past shapes us, and lays the ground work for our decision-making patterns as we age."

"Well, after a lot of thinking and forced reality checks, I have accepted who she was, and what we were. I'm long over this previous relationship, and do not wish to talk about it." I rub my sweaty palms over my jeans. That was actually hard for me to do. "So, do I have any assignments for the week?"

"Yes. I want you to try doing one thing out of your comfort zone. But I'll let you pick what it is this time. Remember, the merit of what you choose should offer you some positive outcome and be something beneficial to your growth. You are doing so well."

I left my therapy session, feeling at ease. I am still completely backed up sexually. But this is how it has to be for now. I feel like someone who quit smoking cold turkey. I almost can't breathe some nights, because it's been a part of me for so long.

 **...**

 **Wednesday**

 **...**

A month of no Bonnie, is a month I never wanted to see, from the moment she trapped me in this maze of a mind of mine. Was I wrong to stop it? Should I have given in, to my dire hunger for her, and took her body right there, against that tree? I've asked myself this repeatedly for weeks, going back and forth in my head. And even though, I remember that moment, before almost fucking her vividly, how much I wanted to be inside of her becoming one flesh... the part that stays with me most, has. Nothing to do with sex. The things that remained on repeat in my mind, I printed like her smile on a sunny day are basic, and complicated at the same time. There is, the smell of her skin. The hope in her eyes. And the aggressive beating of her heart, when her chest was pressed against mine. Those three things stay with me every day.

I did what my therapist said, and I stopped making it sexual. Even if, I'm a sex addict, and even if I think about sex all of the time, it doesn't mean, that when I see her, I can't see more than just my appetite for touching her. I also see, fear. And that fear, is so intriguing to me, because I'm afraid too. And quite possibly, I'm more afraid of her, than she is of me. She always sees me, when I don't want her to. And now, I'm looking for her, and she is nowhere in sight.

I really messed up. I interfered, acting to make her feel something, she deserved, and when it came down to it. I cut her, deep. I cut her with a knife, to the chest, and it was unforgivable. I realize this. But when two people are drowning, how can they save each other?

 **...**

 **Thursday**

 **...**

Motorcycle.

That sound scratched my ear all of four weeks. But today is the fourth day of not hearing it. And I talked myself out of knocking on her door the last three days. I talked myself out of putting myself out there. But, today, I have to take my chance. I'm out of my comfort zone for the next five minutes, and I'm taking myself next door and knocking on her door. Literally, as I speak. I'm walking up her driveway and towards her stairway and front door. My fist is tightening, readying my knuckles for this horrible sound, that should untwist the knots in my stomach. At least I'd hope it would, but it doesn't.

After I knock, I wait for her to open the door.

I can feel my heart beat through my chest until she's face to face with me after opening the door and not even looking surprised. Almost as if nothing happened between us. Almost as if, I didn't affect her. She smiled as if we'd just spoken yesterday. "Damon, hi."

"Bonnie... hey." I pause a minute. My sweaty palms run together, then against the thigh of my jeans.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes." No, it's not. I'm lying.

"How have you been?" She asked me before I asked her, and it felt awkward, since I came to visit her.

I think I'm about to ramble, of course, I'm about to ramble. "I want to tell you I've been okay. Most days, I tell myself I am. But I'm a liar. Because I think about you every single day. And, for the past month, I haven't seen you. Not even in passing. I'm really not confused by why, but I'm bothered by it."

"I'm sorry. I picked up a second job. I work nights, a couple days a week."

"Oh." I sighed. "Where?"

"I'm just kidding. Geez, Damon. Sometimes you're so dry." She laughed at my flatlined responses.

"Sorry. I just... I haven't seen you. And, I wanted to tell you, that for a few weeks, seeing you was the highlight of my day. Whether or not we spoke, I just became happier seeing you. Your laughter, when you play fetch. Your tears, when you go out there sometimes on very overcast days, and cry. Your naked body when you swim at night."

Her smile disappeared from her face, and she looked like Zozo had been hit by a car. I'd embarrassed her, and it didn't bother me, because I was a straight shooter. "Damon, our relationship if that what you wanna call it, got really weird, really fast."

"Relationship?" I laughed, because my therapist used that word in the beginning when I spoke about Bonnie, and it confused me. But, in this moment, my laughing may have come off as insensitive. But we all know my emotions tend to be misplaced. She didn't find it as amusing.

"Anyways, I gave you space, because you needed it."

"What?"

"You said, you weren't in a good place, and that I deserved better, then a guy like you."

"It was true."

"I've moved forward, and on, from the little... mistake we made."

"Little mistake?" She was really harsh for an easy-going person, if she wanted to be. This side of her, to have yet to see.

"Or big mistake. And I'm not a clingy girl, like what's her face. I can take a hint."

"There was no hint there. I felt, the moment was heated, and I couldn't do that to you, when you were emotional." It was the only thing that made sense to say. "I'm here, because my therapist told me to come out of my comfort zone and do something I wouldn't normally do. I've sat on what this for two days, dredging up the courage. I decided to come out of my house and be honest with you."

"I appreciate that your therapist made you do this." She said sarcastically, and it didn't go unnoticed even when she tried to play it off. "But, Damon, right now isn't a good time." I could tell she was in the middle of something, possibly waiting for him, and I needed to know what their situation was.

"Are you back with him?" Damn, I'm doing the jealousy thing again.

"It's complicated."

"I don't think it is. I think, you can open up to me, and I can be here for you." I'm know I'm reaching. And I don't feel her reaching back, and this is the feeling of rejection I was always afraid of.

"You're really funny. But, I can't entertain the sudden bout of courage, Damon. I'm not a toy, or an experiment, okay? He's on his way here." She tried to close the door, and I stopped it.

"Does he know about us? Our connection..." She could be dismissive, and say there is no us, nor a connection. But if I know her the way I think I do, she won't say that, because so far, there has been no disconnect between us.

"No, he doesn't."

"He doesn't know how you swam naked every night, and let me watch you? Does he know you let me watch your wet, naked body every night?" I was becoming intense, I could feel my temples throbbing.

"Who said I did that for you?"

"I know you did. You put on a show for me. You tortured me."

"I remember, you fucking the same woman over and over, in your window. Talk about torture."

I laughed, because it doesn't matter what I say, she retorts. "And you said I made you regress, tell me what you meant."

"It's not a good idea for me to divulge on my transgressions while Lorenzo is on his way."

"Why did you stop swimming every night?"

"I swam to cope. It helped me to cope with a particular high stress factor in my life."

"Which is?"

"Lack of sex, Damon. I swam naked to replicate the same feeling I got from sex. I was celibate for five months."

"Was?"

"Yeah. Was."

"Wow." I had nothing to say because those words made me feel like I got shot in the chest. "He doesn't deserve you. Or your body."

"He's trying to change."

"Do you believe that? Or do you tell yourself that?"

"Says the guy who had a relationship with a woman who didn't deserve him."

"She was never my girlfriend."

"What are you getting at, Damon?"

"Why do we ignore what happened that night? The night, I had sex with her, physically, but it was with you in my mind. It was you, that I wanted... not her. And her body was there, my body was there, but my mind wasn't. You've taken my free will from me Bonnie, I think about you, all the time, and that night... things got complicated, but, then it all stopped." I looked at her and she looked different. The everyday optimism was gone. The glimmer in her eyes was gone. Her smile was still electrifying, but it didn't spread across her face the way it used to. He's draining of her, since coming back into her life.

"I can only speak for myself, Damon. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I gave you space and let you be."

"Your body tortured me for nearly three weeks. I watched you every night and you knew it. I stood in my living room, and waited for the moment you would walk outside. Seeing you naked was such beautiful imagery for me."

"You, seeing me every night was a mistake." It came out harsh, but I could tell she didn't mean for it to. She started out angry, but calmed down. "But, once you did see me-"

"What? Tell me?" Then I calmed down.

"I didn't want to stop, letting you see me."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Damon. Somehow... I needed that feeling. A man like you... watching me. It felt, like..." I waited for her to tell me why, because, it would feed my ego in a grand way. And, I would've eaten it up. "It felt like sex. And... at that point, I hadn't had sex in so long... it was exactly what I needed."

"If sex is what you wanted-"

"No, Damon, stop. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry for inserting myself into your life in such a boundary pushing way."

"I'm not bothered by it, Bonnie. Insert yourself." I smiled.

"Damon..." she smiled back at me. "I shouldn't have been thinking about sex, and you shouldn't have been watching me, while you were having sex with her. You're reckless. What am I supposed to do with that? Damon, a month ago, on that beach I had been celibate for five months. It took months to get there. Seven months before that was weeks of trying and then failing. And I hadn't been brought so close to the point of no return until that night. When you rejected me, I had to fulfill that need. He was there."

"Bonnie... The fact is, no matter how much, I appreciated, seeing your beautiful body, I still didn't just think about sex. I felt something different, when I saw you naked. You became my muse."

"Don't say that, Damon. You don't mean it."

"I'm completely serious. Listen to me, Bonnie. Your body gave me life. There was so much story behind every curve, every inch of your skin. Your silhouette is branded into my brain." She tried to hide the fact that her eyes were watering. She tilted her head to the side and subtly wiped with her over grown sleeves. "Does he tell you, how your body makes him forget about all other women? Because, for me your body has shut my brain off to every other woman's body. It's not sexual, as much as I'd love it to be. But, I'd give up casual sex with all of the random women in the world, just to see you swim naked every night." She quickly wiped her eyes, but the tears, were cascading uncontrollably.

"Why the fuck are you telling me this?" She was mixing the emotions of anger and sadness, and I could tell she didn't know which one she should be using.

"Because... if he's coming here, you should know what you do to me. You make me want to be a better man, Bonnie. You bring out the creativity in me. Not just your swimming naked, but your polite optimism, when I clearly don't deserve your kindness. The first picture I took of you, was-"

"You took a picture of me?"

"I've taken plenty, without sounding like a stalker. Not, when you were naked. But when you sat on your porch, the day you moved in. Your hair was in a bun and you wore a sweater off the shoulder sleeve. It was an overcast day and you just looked out at the neighborhood, and this calm energy just shifted inside of me, because of you. You looked at peace. And every day since you moved in, I noticed the smile of a hopeful woman, which lit my soul on fire."

She forced her emotions inside, but I could feel how she wore her heart on her sleeve. "I'm actually a mess, Damon. I have to try really hard to be the peace, I wish I had in my life."

"That glow is gone. Today, seeing you for the first time in weeks, and I already feel a shift in your energy. It's not the same." He was pulling her peace out of her, and trying to lock her into his mind games. I could feel it. "I know firsthand how draining the need for acceptance can be. Especially, when the person you love or care for deeply, is the one draining you of life. So, I'll leave you with this, I can't stop thinking about you, and my first and favorite image of you, with a bun in your hair and your beautiful shoulder hanging out of your shirt, showcasing your delicate neckline. The way you scrunch your face when you want to disagree with me, but don't. And how your lips are shaped like a heart, and your smile, is slightly crooked on one side, but, how much that smile drives me absolutely crazy. And last but not least, I loved how after swimming naked every night, you sat in your living room, and read a book." At this point she didn't realize tears were dripping down her cheeks. She stood there frozen. "When he comes over, just do me a favor, and ask him what he loves about you?"

"Love doesn't exist without pain. It's an emotion lost in lust and tangled in hate."

I took to her crying face, and used the pads of my thumbs once again to wipe her tears. I grabbed her face, and just held her and stare at her. She had the audacity to look down. "Look at me, with those beautiful rare shade of green eyes." She looked up. "I've never done this before. I'm an introvert, to the highest degree. You pulled me out of my shell, without trying, and made me do something spontaneous for you, knowing full well you can reject me. But, you, Bonnie... are worth the rejection. Not all love is driven by lust, or fueled from hate. Maybe I'm not fully aware of what it means to love you, yet. But, I'm willing to explore, what it means to fall in love with you, the way you deserve to be loved."

"Damon, why are you doing this?"

I pushed her into his arms. I, unknowingly, contributed to something, I didn't mean to. And she unknowingly broke me. I hear his motorcycle coming from around the corner. "I don't regret being honest with you, Bonnie. You're worth honesty, and you're worth loyalty. You deserve that." I began walking away from her, with no anger inside of me towards her, but some towards myself. I want her to be happy, because for the first time… a woman's happiness matters to me.

She called out to me, and it gave me a glimmer of hope.

"Damon. I think you're my soulmate. For what it's worth." The motorcycle got closer and closer, and I took a chance not caring about him and his bike. I walked back to her, and made a request. I gently gripped her neck in the palm of my hand, and pulled her ear to my lips.

"The next time he touches you, think of me."

"I already do."

It feels right. I kissed her lips, let her face go gently, and headed home.

I knew, in my mind, she would never be able to go back to being same woman after that. Call me selfish if you will. Whether she spoke to me ever again, I left an imprint on her brain.

 **...**

Later that night, after his bike interrupted my peace, and he'd been there a few hours, I decided to watch them, interact. I head out to the back of my house and sit in the dark. They seemed calm and they weren't sitting near each other. She on her favorite side of the couch with a book, and he is sitting, and looking bored out of his mind watching tv. I sat there about twenty minutes before they interacted. Some words dryly exchanged and then he stood up and rubbed his hands in his hair impatiently. I could tell he was upset, because his body language became very animated. She just sat there with her book listening to him. Glasses on face, bun in hair, off the shoulder sweater. I could literally kiss her right now.

His anger carries him to the back porch where he angrily opens the door and storms out letting off a loud growl with his face palmed. "Your bloody impossible!" He yells. It's certain that he's the lack of peace in her life, the face she had when she got here, the first day was the face of a woman who left her pain behind. He brought it back to her. He keeps yelling from outside and she's inside. "I give a fuck about what you interpret from my actions. I'm here aren't I? I could be with a number of women tonight. Instead I'm here with you, once again being questioned on my humanity." I saw her stand up and walk towards the door. She said something quietly, I couldn't hear her. Then he yelled again, "I don't give a fuck about your neighbors! Let them hear me."

She closed the door, and he opened it back up, stormed out and yelled. "I'm claustrophobic in this fucking atmosphere, while you read your book, and sit quietly. What am I supposed to do with that?"

She walked outside, to calm him. "Lorenzo, please stop. You did this at my last place. Stop being so psychotic."

"Psychotic? If I'm psychotic, it's because you are fucking impossible." She walked back inside and disappeared, for a minute before coming back with his phone.

"Unlock it."

"What?"

"Unlock this phone. Prove to me you are here for me, and not just so I can break my celibacy for you."

When I heard that I stopped breathing. Thank God. She hadn't had sex with him, yet. I was amazed. She held herself together well, and for a man coming around for a month, I'll admit, I'm unsure of his motives. Most men wouldn't stick around for lack of sex.

"I'm here and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"No, Lorenzo. That's not all that matters. Do you even love me?"

"Of course, I do."

"Why? do you love me?"

"You've tortured me for three or four years. We're practically family."

"What a piss poor excuse. What do you love about me?"

"Your beautiful."

"Beautiful? That's a really lazy way to describe me. Put some effort in here. Millions of men tell millions of women they are beautiful. Tell me reasons, you love me. Reasons, that make me different from the women in this phone." I remember giving her the reasons earlier, and it goes to show she really listens to me.

"This is ridiculous."

"No. It's what I need. My soul is reaching out for a reason to keep you in my life this time, and you are giving me nothing."

"You want a reason? Fine. Sex. Mind blowing sex. You're nearly boundless with sex. You have no boundaries. You let me do whatever the fuck I want to you, and you accept it. You are great at sucking a cock, and riding a dick, and most importantly... are you ready for this... you prefer sex over love. You're a fucking sex addict. I love that about you. You used to hate this bullshit. You used to just want to fuck everyday... four times a day. You were purely a fantasy. And I had you all to myself. Then you became selfish and started withholding sex."

She was wiping tears and looking towards the sky. "Did it ever occur to you, that I didn't want to be your fantasy? That I wanted actual acceptance, and love?"

"Your therapist feeds you that bullshit! Did that ever occur to you. You're being brainwashed."

"Did it occur to you, I'm not who you think I am?"

"It occurred to me that the night we met, we had sex, and everyday thereafter, we repeated that pattern for three years until you magically grew a brain, and developed feelings." I could kick his ass right now. He's such a dick. But, many women maybe feel the same way about me. "You know what connected us, we are sex baby. You and I, are a fucking train wreck when it comes to love. We fight all of the time. But make up sex, this is us." I'm more astonished than the last time that he manages to keep her in this tight grip. But mental abuse is pattern, that she's probably accepted from an early age, and no one, has allowed her to feel like she was more than her body. I want to pick her up and run away with her right now. I want to tell her she's better than that, and I want to show her, what it's like to be more than her body.

"I'm sick of make-up, sex. I want to be made love to. Do you know what that means?"

"I can't do that."

"I'll give you one more chance to tell me, something about me that you love."

"I love the view of your back, when your bent over. And I love hearing the sound my balls make when they slap against your pussy." At that point, it was long overdue, but she smacked him.

 **SMACK!**

He stood there and laughed at her. "I hate you."

"You don't hate me, and I'll show you why." He pulled her inside by the arm and slammed the door shut. I couldn't hear them anymore, but I could see them. He threw her on the couch and pulled off her pants, her body was facing me, and he knelt down before he spread her legs, and put his face between her thighs. I sat directly up, I was angry and intrigued at the same time, but not in a good way. My body was heating up. My fist tightened, and I could break a fucking wall. He uses her weakness against her to keep her around. I know this feeling. I remember his feeling. I was her years ago. It's what happens when pain, and emptiness, meet in the middle. Overwhelming you in a motion confusing it with love. She stuck around for years dealing with this pattern of mental abuse. Verbal abuse. Hell, this is borderline coercion. I want to go ever there and destroy everything about him that demeans everything about her. I want to kill him, with my bare hands, in front of her, and pray it makes her pain disappear. But it won't. Believe me I know. Nothing makes you forget, how they made you feel. Ever.

I look up, and she's crying in pleasure, and her brain is tricking her body into enjoying this, because, it's torture. She's pulling his hair, and squirming. The breathing, the crying... I see it all, like a dagger in my chest, as I watch myself die inside seeing another man touch her. Seeing her enjoy his power in such a way, is so gut-wrenching, I finally understand what it did to her, to see me have sex with crazy, burnt eggs, bridal magazine girl. And he's not even fucking her, he's just eating her pussy. But she loves it, and it's her weakness, I feel her weakening to his overbearing power.

Her body, her mannerisms. She's a victim to her sexual circumstance. And in the wrong moment, I'm finding jealousy in his lips. I'm sickeningly jealousy of how he's allowed to touch her and know her body. Remember I still have this sickness inside of me. I'm not perfect, and if only I could make her feel pleasure, she wouldn't need him. She wouldn't need to cry in pain, but strictly pleasure. I'm trying to train my mind to think differently about these things, but it's not that simple. And I'm tortured, seeing her so vulnerable.

She's about to cum, I can see it, she's breathing erratically. She's saying yes repeatedly, I'm reading her lips. She even said _oh my God._ And now, as I look at her, I ask myself- Why am I torturing myself? I don't want to see her cum, from another man's pleasure and just as I get up, he stops. Her entire face is in shock. _Why did you stop? What are you doing?_ She asks. He pulls her up by her arm, and she shakes her head no. They start arguing. He becomes rough with her, and she's fighting him now.

I'm fighting with myself. It to be involved. It's taking everything in me. It's not my business, I should stop watching. She deserves more than this. But I can't make her want me, and I can't watch her want him. Suddenly, the commotion and struggle change from verbal to a hundred percent physical. I hear a loud thump as I head inside, and when I turn to look, her body is against the glass. She starts waving her arms, around and hits him again repeatedly, pushing him, pointing her door. I think she's trying to make him leave, but he looks at her like he wants to scare her, and, I know he's not about do, what I think he-

 **SLAP!**

He hit her.

He back handed her, threw her on the couch, and now he's unbuckling his pants. She kicks him in the dick. He falls to the floor, but doesn't stay down long before he leaps for her body. Her face is in pure fear. He's on top of her, and she's fighting him, and I blacked out, after that.

 **...**

It's midnight, and she's not outside swimming naked, and I'm not next door, wishing she was. I'm sitting here, holding ice over her face. I don't know what happened from the time I flew off my back porch and got here, but he obviously hit her once or twice more. I told her to call the cops, then I kicked his ass. When the cops showed up, they had to pull us off each other. It was a shit show, and they almost arrested me, believing I was the perpetrator, since it looked like he'd taken the beating of his life. But she stopped them from cuffing me, and explained what had happened.

Now, I'm here with her, and there's nowhere else, I'd want to be.

"Has he ever hit you before?"

"No."

"You didn't deserve that."

"I don't care about that."

"What? You should. He raised his hand to you. You are a woman. He's supposed to protect you."

"I don't mean, I didn't care about him hitting me. I'm more disappointed that he tried to take a piece of me tonight, that I'd held onto for almost six months. And that I trusted him enough, to invite him back into my life."

"You're human, Bonnie." She sat next to me on the couch. The very couch he'd try to gain all his power back over her. "I apologize for watching you."

"Why? I've watched you. I guess you and I are a couple of masochists." She laughed. Her laugh was short lived when she thought about her situation. "I can't believe I invited him back in my life again."

"Minor setback. Now you have a restraining order filed, and you have every reason, to leave him at a distance."

"A day in the life of me. It's almost comical."

"Why is that?" I stare into her face, mostly at her lips, which she was biting. Her hair was wild from the commotion a while ago. She sat next to me and we face each other on her couch, one of her legs bent up, and her elbow propped onto it, so she could lean her face onto her hand. My hand was holding a bag of ice on her face.

"Because, there goes the neighborhood."

I push her hair out of her face, and grab it, with the opposite arm, on the other side of her head, and pull it to one side. I remove the ice and look at the swelling which has gone down. "Why did he become violent, in that moment?"

"Because, he said, he could tell I had someone else, by the way I was arguing with him. I looked at him differently, he thought. He brought me to the edge of climax with oral sex... he stopped me before I came, and told me if I wanted to cum, and not suffer in pain, I had to break my celibacy. I told him I couldn't. He asked, who the guy was? Who's the guy who making me question his love? I didn't answer him. So, he told me he'd find out one way or the other, and I told him to leave. He pushed me against the glass and told me to make him leave. I tried hitting him and pushing him out the door, and from there, it escalated. You were at my backdoor less than a minute later."

When she spoke, she spoke slowly, and carefully. Her lip was busted, and swollen. She tried to remain the ball of light she always is. Smiling, through some sort of hidden pain. I decided it was a good moment to ask about her celibacy, I was tired of leaving things to chance, waiting for results. I had to know her, and why she is who she is. "So, he thinks a man, is the reason you questioned him? He's very insecure."

"He's really possessive."

"You mentioned you were celibate? Was that you're entire relationship?"

"No. Just the very end. We moved very fast from day one. We were intensely sexual. In every sense of the word. I had granted him access to my body whenever he wanted it. I loved him. But..."

"But, what?"

"Oh, nothing. It's a long embarrassing story. Unrepairable, and painful. But in the end, I chose to want to feel something deeper. Even, though for me, sex is really deep and meaningful, the meanings I attached to it, weren't the same as his. He used my weakness against me, and... I let him, because I thought it was love. But, that's all I can really say. Without detailing our awful moments. Maybe... one day, I can tell you. But, not now. You'd think differently of me."

"I could never think differently of you. And just so you know, I don't mind hearing your long story someday. Whenever you're ready." She spread her heart shaped lips in a small smile, then winced at the pain. It drew me back to the swelling on her face. How could a man hit her? How could a man hit a woman?

"You don't want to hear the stories. Believe me."

"I want to hear, as much as you'll tell me."

"Mr. Blue eyes... tell me, why you're in therapy."

"Ahh. Nah. That's a story best reserved for another time." Truth is, I would love to talk to her about it, because she and I share this in common. But she is unaware I heard her conversation, and until she feels safe enough to open up, I'd rather not scare her away with my masochistic need for sex.

"I see. I don't divulge, so you don't?"

"No, that's not it. I just... I guess, I'm not your average Jack."

"And I'm not your average Jill."

"You aren't an average anything. And, he couldn't see it. So, he doesn't deserve you."

"Did you mean those things earlier, that you said about me?"

"I meant every word."

"I'm celibate, Damon. I have been for about six months."

"I haven't had sex for four weeks. So that makes me, celibate a month now." The sound of the words coming out of my mouth were near ridiculous. Not because it was impossible, but because I could barely believe it. "The night you saw her, was the last sexual encounter. We didn't have sex. I stopped it."

"That's awfully strong of you."

"I was just tired of settling. And at this point... I won't allow myself to." I could see that although she seemed interested in learning more about my past, her eyes were getting heavy. Which was good, because I had no time explain my rotten ways tonight. I pulled her body into mine and held her until she fell asleep. Her hand crawled up my chest, and held my shirt between her fingers. She played with the material until she was softly breathing. I got up, and carried her to her bedroom, hoping to cover her peacefully and leave without waking her.

After I lay her down, she grabbed my hand. "Please don't leave me, tonight. I'm still a little shaken. I don't want to be alone." She scooted over, and patted her bed, for me. "Please."

"Of course, if it's what you really want."

"I do."

And I got on bed next to her, held her, in my arms until the sun rose. That was probably the most I'd ever felt I belonged somewhere. The moment she needed me, I wanted nothing more, than to be what she needed. Once again, the hope was in her eyes. The smell of her skin was in my nose. And the heavy beating of her heart, while her chest lay against mine is present.

Home.

She's my safe place. She's the place I feel whole.

 **...**

 **The Next Day**

 **...**

We woke up a few hours later, before the sun came up, around four am. It was very awkward, because morning wood is a thing. And no matter how natural it is, when you're in bed with a woman you're not sexual with, or is purely platonic, it's an embarrassing conversation starter. Luckily, I turned my body before she noticed it, and my jeans made it a painful reminder of how I'd gone a month without feeling a pussy hugging me. I hunched over her bed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just... where's your bathroom?"

"Oh, uh, right there next to the closet. You okay?"

"Yup... just, been holding my pee since sometime yesterday." I lied. Men can hold pee forever. I jumped up and went inside of her bathroom locking the door. Is that a bathing suit? Fuck. I hardly remember she'd owned one. She's always naked. Fuck. I'm picturing her naked. I breath, deeply three times. I should be fine. I just need to pee, and it should gradually go down.

As a man, with morning wood, we usually can jump in the shower and pee, but this isn't my house, and I need to just figure this shit out. My dick is at attention and won't aim to the toilet.

I have no choice. I have to try to rub this out. Fuck my dick, with a mind of his own. He is spoiled, he wants pussy. He isn't about the palm life. I'm trying... to imagine her swimming nude, and I'm just, at a loss for thoughts, because I'm so embarrassed, and nothing is making it happen.

"Damon, you okay? You need to take a shower or something?"

"Uhh, ya know, why don't you go back to sleep, Bon. I'm good."

"You want to run in the ocean?" She asked. The beach, that might work. Maybe if I just go jump in the water.

"Are you going for a swim?"

"I usually go at night. But, it's still dark out... sun's not quite up yet."

"Okay sure." I'm assuming she knows what's going on so, I pull my shirt off, and hold it over the front of my pants. I think, I should be good, if I walk out slowly.

I head out of the bathroom, and she's naked.

She's. So. Fucking. Naked. Celibacy. Is. The. Devil.

I just stare.

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd give me a heads up before you came out. Can you hand me my towel?"

She has no issues being naked. She's standing there. And in typical disgusting man fashion, I'm salivating over her anatomy. Her breasts are a perfect B. Her hips spread like a butterfly's wings. But I know, If I look at her pussy, I might explode. "Bonnie, you're naked." I cleared my throat.

"That's how this works. I swim naked. It helps."

"Helps who? Not me."

"It helps the process. I'm a sex addict Damon. Swimming in the nude, helps me to release the endorphins that I release during sex. It's really a coping mechanism, and it helps me. I'm assuming you're embarrassed because of your boner."

"Boner, that's so juvenile." I quickly take a step back as she walks towards me. She shouldn't come to close, because I can feel myself, spreading her legs, like a wildfire. "What are you doing Bonnie?"

"Relax, Damon." She said, while she unbuckled my pants. "Just allow your body, to relax with mine."

"Easier said than done." My heart rate is increasing, I'm sure, an unhealthy amount of BPM, and she keeps going until, she's pulled my pants past my hips. My dick hits her in the stomach, and I think, I want to erase my existence, because, a month ago, I'd be fucking her. But today, I'm an adolescent mess, and she's also reckless as fuck. Please do t let me cum on her stomach.

Luckily, I'm not ashamed of my naked self, I'm just ashamed of what I'm thinking at this very moment, and I won't even allow my brain to transmit my thoughts into concise words, because I'm so ashamed for how the brains of the male species works at this very moment. I can smell her. She has this, particular smell, that I love. Her skin... is addicting.

"I'm helping you through my process okay? Don't look at my naked body, if it makes you uncomfortable. Just look in my eyes." So, I trained my thoughts to look beyond her naked body. It was one of the hardest things I'd had to do. And I find myself saying that and thinking that a lot when it comes to her. She's challenged me, beyond measure, and right now, I, a sex addict, stand before her, a sex addict, naked, hard, horny, and ignoring every single one of my natural instincts, to pin her to the wall, and fuck her.

But, apparently this is growth... maybe.

Well, definitely dick growth whichever way you look at it.

"Are you breathing, Damon?"

"No, I'm not. Actually." She giggled at me, and then did one of the sexiest things. She stood on her tippy toes, and kissed my cheek. Which didn't help my condition, but it made me feel supported.

"If it makes you feel better, I can't look down at your erection. It'll probably trigger me, and my celibacy will be none-existent."

"That's okay, right?" I asked jokingly, and she laughed. Her gently push her hair out of her face, and we look one another in the eye for what felt like minutes, but was just seconds. And looking a woman in the eye, is every bit as hard as I always thought it would be, but, worth it, if she's worth it. If you just want to stand before her in your honest self, no she'll, no mask. She's really short, and, I like the way I have to look down at her, and force hero look up at me.

"You're really handsome. I think, the blue eyes, really could make a girl submissive on the right day."

"You have no idea Bonnie."

"Are you a dominant, sexual, predator?" She joked.

"I've made plenty of women submissive, I have control issues." I admitted, and then I kept being honest. "But, I'm kind of enjoying this lack of control I have right now."

"Well, then screw the towels. Come on. Let's just go run all the way there naked."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Alright. You lead, I follow." And we did it. She leads me outside, and we both ran to the water, and I realized how stupid I was right away. This water was so freezing cold, that it gave me a rush. How could a man's dick not shrivel up inside of itself after jumping in this water? "FUUUCK! It's cold. How do you do this?"

"It's easy. I just focus all my attention on the cold, which only lasts a minute. But that minute, helps me to forget everything else. Clears my head. Then, I relax into the water's control. And my body adjusts to it. It warms up, and I float out here."

She just looks at the moon and floats. "You fear what can be in the water?"

"Somedays. But most times, I imagine, the waters purpose, is to make us fear it. The world is a terrible, and crazy place. People kill each other, hurt each other, cheat on each other, and we live our lives based on what other people think about us or want from us. But those small things, that we magnify in our minds, are nothing compared to Mother Nature. And his water is much scarier than those trivial pains. But, we can balance this fear out with that fear, and decided how we want to let it control our lives."

"What do you mean?"

"The ocean is scary. Especially at night. You can't separate the sky from the water. We are swimming in darkness. It's a metaphor for life. Right? Swimming in darkness. But, do we stop swimming? Do we run? Or do we learn to control the fear, so that we can embrace the journey of overcoming?"

She's really, amazed me. It makes so much sense, it bewilders me to have been blind to it. "And the nudity?"

"So many reasons for it. Being bare to our fears. Presenting ourselves, embracing ourselves, choosing ourselves, and feeling the water in every inch of our body, is letting go of the control. And in letting it go, we really gain it back. It's quite, sickeningly abstract, and beautiful."

And I listen to her speak. She continues to talk to me, and I just listen. And I realize, I'm no longer listening because my therapist told me to. I'm listening because, I find, that when you really want to know a person, beyond the surface, beyond sex... you don't have to feel forced to listen, and hear them. You do it, because you want to. You do it, because you crave them. You hunger to be inside of their mind, their spirit, their thoughts.

And I just listen to her and we lose track of time, because the sun is rising, and we are both still naked. "I want to take pictures of you Bonnie."

"Don't you already do that, stalker?"

"I do. But, the pictures I take are absolutely, the depiction of a woman at peace. It could be absolutely off base, but the pictures capture that. I want something more. I want the truth. I want pictures of you, deep in your thoughts, cooking your dinner, reading your books, being inside of yourself. I get the outside of you. I want the inside of you."

She moved her body upright in the water, looked at me a few seconds and out to her house. "No one ever cared much about those parts of me. It's a strange request."

"It's my request."

"How does this work?"

"Like any other day. We can hang out, and I can just have my camera with me. I'd like it to just be natural. I may snap a shot here and there. Don't mind me."

"Easier said than done." She mocked me from earlier.

"Exactly. I never thought I could stand naked in front of a theoretical, abstract-minded and unapologetically unashamed, woman of your... of your..."

"Of my what?"

"Free-sprinted nature, outlook on life, and natural radiance."

"I've never heard that before." She smiled, but I could tell she appreciated it. She appreciated that I didn't just call her beautiful. Beautiful, is dull. Though classic, and meaningful, still very dull.

"So, pictures? What does that mean, we have to hang out more?"

"You don't have to talk to me, if you don't want. I mean we can hang out and I can casually take pictures, or you can leave your door unlocked for me, and I can be a fly on the wall."

Her eyes rolled, and she glanced at the peeking sun. "Oh crap. Damon, the sun literally takes five minutes to rise, and we are naked."

"Come on. Let's go, before the neighbors, see you."

"Me? You mean You."

"No... you. I'd hate for the men around here, to be paying far too much attention to you, being that you live alone."

"Oh, is that it?" She smiled. I think she's hinting at jealousy, to which, I hold no ownership to her, and I'm not even sure how that works here days. Fifteen years ago, relationships were different. A month ago, a woman thought I was her boyfriend because we slept together a few times. I guess, it's best I take this role, slowly. Whatever it is.

"Yeah, that's it." I didn't even sound convincing.

We get out of the water and run for our lives to the shower in her backyard. Both of us covered in salt and sand, and cold as hell. She starts the water, and jumps in before it gets hot, I wasn't sure what to do, so I waited. "Damon?"

"Yeah?"

"Come on."

"In there with you? It's kind of small, isn't it?"

"It's big enough for me and you." She pushed the small swinging door opened, so I could walk inside. She keeps her eyes trained on mine, and that's a good thing, because that water was cold. And my manhood is still registering that.

As the water gets warmer, I sigh. "Thank god." I look down and smile, and he's smiling back at me. "Ohh haha, yes. Holy fuck." I rubbed warm water over my face, and she was laughing.

"That serious?"

"Yes... cold water, and dicks aren't exactly a combination for success."

"Oh okay." She turned away from me, and I watched the water, rinse sand off her body. I looked down and back up quickly, before my dick got the memo, that a beautiful naked woman was in a shower with me. So, I change the subject, but not totally off sex, just off my dick.

"So, uh... sex addiction, huh?"

"Yeah. Technically, nymphomania."

"Were you diagnosed?"

"I was diagnosed with Compulsive Sexual Dependency."

Sounds about right, I thought. I keep showering behind her, and talking. "What's that like?"

"Well, scientifically, it's the need for sex, the need for climax, and endorphin release. But, for me, it's deeper. It's spiritual. There's this freedom to being held, and connected." She pulled her hair to the side, and looked towards the opposite side while she spoke. "I love how two bodies come together, and answer each other's questions. Fulfill each other's desires. But, how mind-blowing it feels to become one body."

I moved closer to her to listen, and I'm stuck on her open shoulder, listening to her, and watching one of my favorite parts of her. I felt her exhale, when she felt the heat of my skin near hers. "What is the downside to your addiction? All addictions have a downside."

"Yeah, it's misplaced love. I confused the two for years. Thinking they were one and the same. And because I'm not a serial dater, I'm a relationship girl, it's always been that way. I couldn't figure out how to have casual sex to save my soul. It's all about giving my all. But, in the past, men have taken that from me, and used it to lie to me." If you ask her a question, she is an open book of honesty.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "In more ways than one, I'm completely sorry for what happened between us, a month ago." I know she feels the pleading in my eyes, because, I rarely get this personal with her about my own feelings. "I never wanted to hurt you. And, just so you know, walking away from wanting to make love to you, was the single hardest thing, I have ever had to do in my life."

"Yea... I was aching that night. It was painful, and I needed Lorenzo to relive that ache, because I hadn't had it that bad in months." I was quickly confused, because she said she didn't have sex with him.

"So, you let him fuck you?" I know I sound jealous, and I won't evn hide it right now.

"No." She turned towards me, and her beautiful melanin was dripping wet.

"Then what do you mean?"

"I let him relieve my ache, with his mouth." And now I'm jealous of his mouth again.

"Oh, I see." Our two naked bodies sit under this warm water, yet still dehydrated for each other. "So, what do you mean, "your ache." What's that like?"

"Oh, the ache... so, for a woman, being brought so close to the feeling of being touched, or fucked, kind of takes a hold of our brains. Chemicals released, send this trigger to your brain, that pleasure is about to happen. Hormones build up, waiting for a release-" I look at her strangely, because of the way she's speaking, and she laughs. "Uhh, just kidding. I get this pain in my pussy..." the way she says pussy, turned me on. "It's that feeling right after my pussy is engorged and swollen, dripping wet beyond measure. It can come from touches, or even thoughts. And it starts to tingle at first, and you think, or pray, it just the tingle. Ya know, you want it to stop at the tingle." She placed her hand on my chest, and stares at my pectorals while she speaks, avoiding eye contact now. "Once you get the first, "almost" sensation... you pray you don't get it again."

"Almost?"

"Almost an orgasm."

"Oh."

"You get one almost, and you pray it fades, because you don't want another almost, to happen. But the mere thought of a cock, inside of me, or a tongue licking me, and the feeling comes right back. And you try hard to imagine anything else, but the tingling tightens, inside of your stomach." I fell her fingernails grip my chest, as she speaks, because the words almost give her an ache, just saying them. It is really intense, and I feel every ounce of her pain. "When the tingling tightens in the stomach, it turns to an ache. The ache means you will keep feeling an almost orgasm over and over again, until your body signals to the brain it can no longer take the pain. And your body begins to ache, because, I don't know, if you understand how my pussy is set up. But basically... when I'm built up, to the ache... the pain extends to my stomach and my groin. It delivers several sharp pains, like an orgasm gone wrong. Then my body, hurts all over."

Holy shit, she is almost describing blue balls. But, this could be worse. I watch her close her eyes imaging the pain of it, and the way it controls her.

"Then, my pussy will throb, and throb. And in those moments, I'm just thinking about how much I want to be fucked. How much I need to be fucked. How much, I just need to feel it, slide inside of me, and calm every nerve in me, with its beautiful and powerful thrust."

Bonnie is breathing heavy, almost as if she's reliving it. And my body is overly excited listening to her. She leans into me, and I wrap my arms around her body while her head hits my chest. Water still flowing over us, I push her hair out of her face... and lift her face to me. "And, I just need to know, there's something, to calm the throbbing, and put me out of my misery."

I look in her eyes, and at her lips, and I feel her body against me, and in these moments, I'm not thinking about anything, but kissing her. She let me cup her face, and I pulled her lips near mine, looked her in the face and told her, "I'm so sorry I did at to you. If it's any conciliation, you've given me the ache a few times. And showers don't even help."

"They never help." She smiled.

"It's almost like, your brain is torturing you."

"Exactly. And, you wish you could shut it off."

"Yeah, but you can't."

"So, you lock yourself in the room, and deal with it."

"Because that's how much it controls you." I said.

"Oh my god. I never thought I'd meet someone, who knew what it felt like." She whispered, and then bit her lip, I pinned her against the shower, within a second, and in keeping my hands around the side of her face, and nape of her neck, I kissed her. I kissed her like I wanted to taste the flavor of her mouth. When we stopped kissing, she smiled.

"I think you you're right, Bonnie. You, are my soulmate." And we knew better than to do what we did last time. "And even though, I want to make love to you, I think we should-"

"Take it slow."

"Yeah. I mean, this is more than sex for me. I really am intrigued by you in every way. Inside, outside... and, my dick won't go down, so I already know I'm about to suffer, a shit storm of pain when I have to separate my body from yours."

"You're right. We should stop."

"Yeah."

"But her leg creeps up my body and wraps around my hip." And before I know it, i grab the other leg, and lift her. I look her in the eyes, again, because this vulnerability, I'm appreciating. "What am I doing? I'm such a got damn masochist."

"Me too."

"We can't... I mean-"

"Yeah. Totally, no sex. Just kissing."

"Okay, just kissing... naked?"

"What, do you wanna stop, get dressed and start back?" She raised her brows comically.

"Fuck no. I'll deal with the torture later."

"Okay. Me too." And we made out, like to virgins in that shower... until the fucking water went cold, and my dick got the memo again. We didn't have sex, but I'll be damned, that kissing her, and touching her skin, wasn't better than any sex I'd ever had, in my entire fucking life.

The hope in her eyes, the feel of her skin, and the heavy beating of her heart, against my chest! Bonnie is everything!

* * *

 **A/N Hope ya'll are liking the development. Let me know…. Thanks for reading.**


	5. RELAPSE

**Addict  
Part 5- RELAPSE  
R-M Mature themes, language, acts**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

It's been five months with her. And six months celibate. I'm alive. I'm so alive, and it's because I'm living now. I'm living, and it feels so good to be alive, and be me, and to have her.

We kiss, like teenagers. We talk like adults. We bring out the best in each other, like soulmates.

Sometimes we sleep over at each other's place, no sex of course. We enter each other's spaces without knocking. Although, we each have each other's keys, and we don't barge in often on each other without calling. She, has a second home here. As does Zozo.

Today we hang out casually. Bonnie lay on the beach with her head in my lap. She held a small book up, and read it to me. It was a book of poetry. No big names, some locally published work of a group of college students. I'm not even sure where she found it. She uses the book to shield her face from the sun.

Yes, the sun. It was out today, with clear skies. No overcasting elephants, and whales in the sky. Floating across the sky safari or sky ocean. And my eyes are burning, so she made me where a baseball cap. Whenever the sun is out like this, she drags me out here to read. But the deal, is she has to let me take pictures of her.

"Bon Bon, what started your like for poetry?"

"Kidding me? Poetry is like dance. With words."

"How so?"

"Well, when I'm on stage, I get to tell a story with my body. My soul gets to express without words what I'm feeling. Or what the choreo is telling me to feel. That is why Elijah and I worked so well together. Being as though we were intimate, and in a relationship, he got to understand the way my mind worked. He was able to choreograph for me, to my detailed emotional expressions."

Elijah, the asshole. "Is that also, what lead to the mental and emotional abuse?"

"Probably. It was more or less, him knowing I was young and naive. But at a very young age, I was able to express my feelings in depths, through dance. And then I found some support group, which encourages us to express in words how we felt. Eventually I met some other people my age, who took me to spoken word readings. And this is when, my love with words began."

"Bonnie, you're so in touch with your emotions."

She finally put the book down, and squinted at me, as the suns glare melted her lids, to nearly closed. "Unlike you, Damon. You're so closed off. Share something with me."

"Like what?"

"Anything. You're parents?"

"Eh, they aren't interesting. Or maybe they are. We aren't the closest. But I do love them." She looked at me, as if she wanted me to elaborate. But I didn't.

"Okaaaaay... siblings."

"One brother."

"Seriously? You never mentioned him."

"We haven't spoken in years."

"Why?"

"We butt heads." I didn't elaborate. I just gave her answers to suffice the silence of my life. It wasn't much, but I gave her something, right?"

"You're ex?"

"Nothing to tell. It ended. Waaay overdue break-up. Plenty of wasted time."

"Is that why you're in therapy? Your relationships with these people in your life..." Why does she care so much? Why can't she just be okay with me, and my lack of baggage?

"I'm in therapy because I want to live a life of peace." She became quiet, and she was sure, I'd keep doing this so, she finally stopped. She turned and sat up, the straddled me, and pulled my hat off. "Ouch Bonnie, the sun is in my eyes."

"Sorry." She closed my lids, and kissed them both. "Better?"

"Not quite." She moved lower to my nose, then kissed that.

"Better."

"Ehh. Not quite." She then moved to my chin, and kissed it.

"Better?"

"Maybe, you're getting warmer."

Then my cheeks, and my forehead. "Better?"

"You were the warmest near my chin." She put her nose to mine and giggled. Then her lips tickled mine. She teased me for a few seconds, like she'd kiss me, the she pulled back. "Hey. You were really hot just then."

"I'm not letting you con me out of a kiss." I felt her body lift, to get off me, and I yanked her back down. "You're not about to manhandle me, just because you can."

"No, I'm gonna manhandle you, because... you want me to." I looked her in the eyes, "tell me you don't want me to."

She shook her head, and bit her lip. "I can't." I turned her over, lay her on the blanket, and we kissed right there, in broad daylight, not caring who saw us. We did this, all afternoon, before going to her house and making lunch together.

 **...**

 **Therapy a month later!**

 **...**

"Your entire energy is exceedingly more positive, than it was about eight or nine months ago, Damon. There is some honest, happiness generating from you."

"I feel different."

"She's opening you up. She's like another form of therapy?"

"I wouldn't say that she's a form of therapy. But, I would say she's become, the Andy Warhol to my white walls." He leaned back into the couch, and then sat up and leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. He'd become engaged in the conversation and less combative, and defensive.

"Fascinating. For the past three months, your life has taken several turns. A few months ago, you were battling the natural connection between the two of you. And before that, you'd gone a month without interaction. That really forced you to evaluate your choices. I commend your being honest with her."

"There was no other opportunity. She was moving on. I had to let her know, even if it meant she'd reject me. For months we've really just kissed, and maybe a little touching. But this past month, she got an audition and made it. So, she's working more. It's been like a month since we've sat and kissed for hours. Mostly little kisses here and there."

"Does it bother you?"

"Yeah, of course. That intimacy from her, gives me everything I need."

"Well, when you see her next, address it."

"No, I don't want to seem like a pervert. I'm just going to wait, and see, if she'll kiss me."

"Damon, you need to start opening up to her emotionally. She can't know how to be there for you, if you're not honest. Your concealing your feelings, might be pushing her away, without either of you realizing it."

"I'm trying Doc. I really am. I'm getting closer to opening to her more, I can feel it. As you know, I need to tell her about a lot."

"Does she know that your ex contacted you?"

"No. I thought to invite her for dinner one night this week and talk to her."

"What will you tell her? Will you admit having met with your ex?"

"I want to be honest, but I don't want to push her away. I met with my ex, because she told me she wanted to speak about the way everything ended. As a part of my growing I agreed to do that, and tried get closure. I didn't think the ex would apologize." He hated saying his exes name. Lack of closure, and debilitating, lingering doubt and insecurities.

"It must have felt nice to be vindicated."

"Yes. But... but she kissed me, and that was the part I don't know how to explain."

"Do you have feelings for this woman?"

"I want to say, not in an emotional way. But, it's hard to know how much truth is to that, because of that unhealed scar tissue, and who she was to me back then. But sexually, I can't deny the feelings we'd had back then."

"Did you want to have sex with her, when you saw her?"

"I hate to say it, but yes. It's wrong I know. I wanted to touch her and feel that feeling again. For a second, then I immediately remembered Bonnie, and how much I'd much rather share these moments with her. I sat there with the same exact, on edge feeling I'd had when we dated. It was a disgusting feeling when I left. I felt like I deliberately cheated on Bonnie."

"It's important to know, there's balance in between these two women's roles in your life. One balance leans towards the anger, sadness, triggers, abuse, destruction and pain. The other leans towards growth, progress, respect, and the possibility for a strong, loving and equally developed and challenging relationship.

"But I don't want Bonnie to be hurt by the kiss."

"Would you feel hurt, if she kissed her ex?"

"Ugh, Doc. It's hard to say. He and I don't like each other, and he has a restraining order against me. It's different."

"And the altercation. Has she been in contact with him?"

"I try not to ask her. We are still very casual, in the sense we give each other personal space."

"How would you feel if she was?"

"I don't know. It's her life."

"Try to think of an answer without shutting down. Express your feelings, about her having possible contact with him."

"I would be... I mean, I guess I'd be angry. He hit her. He hurt her. In many ways. We talk to each other, a lot. She told me, he would use sex as a weapon. It reminded me of my ex."

"The one you never talk about but suddenly met with after ten odd years?"

"Yes. She did the things he does. She, held me in a way that I wouldn't leave. Sex. She never had to apologize. She'd seduce me. She never had to move us forward. She'd just be seductive. I thought sex was love when it came to she and my relationship."

"So, when you broke up, sex became the opposite of love. It became your tool for protection. You thought about it as the "anti-love." You had sex with many women, every month. You couldn't process without the physical touch, sans the emotion. And now, you're in a place where you haven't had sex in six months. The longest in over ten years. How does it make you feel?"

Damon stood up and walked around the office. He finally tensed up a little, because he was still fighting those sexual urges. "It's hard Doc. I don't have this dire need for sex, when I'm alone with her the way I did, with the other women. Before I would have sex with them to avoid serious conversations, and emotional debates. But..., when I'm with Bonnie, there is everything else happening. We talk, and cook. We take naps on the beach. We walk on the beach alone. We walk Zozo. I even watch Zozo, when she goes to work, so he's not home alone. And when I go to the studio, she asked me if I could bring her one day, to show her what I do, and to see the work I have for auction and sale."

He walks to an empty wall and leans back on it. "It all sounds fulfilling."

"It is."

"I sense a but, coming?"

"But, I still look at her, and want to fuck her. Excuse my language. I love all of these amazing things about her. I really do. I love learning about her, listening to her, and talking to her. I love that for once, I have someone, other than you to talk to. No offense."

"None taken."

"But I want to touch her, and make love to her."

"So, maybe the two of you are ready for sex, nearly seven months do you feel ready to move forward."

"I don't know."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Look at the fact that I had lunch with my ex and haven't said anything. I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to move forward without telling her."

"Does part of you want to have sex with your ex if she were in front of you today?"

"I don't know. She is beautiful on the outside. The inside is not really for me though. I mean, I'd love to have sex with Bonnie. Because, the not having sex thing, is hard. But I'd do it for her. Because she's worth it. The thing with my ex, I didn't know better. Calling me out of the blue, was a side bar, and she invited me to lunch. There's nothing else to it. It meant nothing to me, I think."

"But you're afraid to tell Bonnie?"

"Really afraid, actually. What she and I have, is the most valuable and precious part of my life. What we've built, is something I don't want to ruin or taint."

"What happens, if you tell Bonnie, and she's fine with it. And eventually she's ready to move forward, sexually. What does having a sexual relationship with Bonnie mean to you?"

"This may be where I sound confusing now. I wanna make love to her, yes. But, I'm afraid of having sex with her, and then everything else disappears. The feelings, the connection, the friendship. I'm afraid to disappoint her. It's been a year for her without sex. That's almost twice as long as me. I'm only at seven months.

"Do you want to be her friend, or her lover?"

"I want to be both."

"Then be both."

"Right now, friendship, is okay. She's celibate. And as long as she's celibate, I'm safe. I can focus on the friendship. Although, we are somewhere between friendship, and serious relationship."

"What will you do, when she is ready to pursue something more? Because she is sharing everything with you. A lot of women, come to a point where it's now or never, all or nothing. I'm not saying this will be her too, but, women do get to this point, and usually, they don't take as long as men. So, I urge you to give it some thought. How you'd handle progression?"

"Okay, Doc. Any assignment for me this week?"

"Did you ever use your artificial vagina?"

"That's a joke, right? I'm never buying one of those."

"How many times have you dealt with vasocongestion?"

"What?"

"Blue balls?"

"Every week. I die, at least twice."

"I thought so. Listen, here's a number and address. Go there. Ask for Karen. She will very discreetly help you out and answer any questions about this issue. Before you get worried, she's just a privatized sex toy consultant."

"Wow, Doc. Okay. Nice to know your hooking me up with your dealer." He laughed.

"Very funny. By the end of this week, you can see how you like it. If you absolutely hate it, next week you'll never hear my mouth again."

"Sure, but I can pretty much guarantee, I'll hate it."

"Okay. Then I'll personally refund you."

 **...**

Today, Bonnie is coming over. I told her I'd make her dinner. I was debating speaking to her about something that happened two weeks ago. My ex called me to meet up. The last interaction ended in conflict. In fact, there was a negative exchange between her and I often enough, that the last one, was just the last time it happened. So, Bonnie is far from her biggest fan. Especially, after having learned how our relationship progressed.

I'm not the best cook. But, I went for something different. I normally order take out. But, I have a point to prove tonight. I have to show her, she means more than, just easy. Take out is easy. Making a dinner from scratch, that's dedication.

"Hello... " she called out as she walked into the house from the back door. That's our thing, now. We walk into each other houses from the back door.

"Hey stranger. I haven't spoken to you since yesterday morning."

"Sorry. I didn't think I'd end up staying the night at my mom's house. She gets lonely when her boyfriend is out of town for work."

"How is your mom doing?"

"She's good. Still gives me shit, about buying the beach house. But, honestly, I don't care. She makes a lot of decisions I'm not a fan of."

"She may just be hurt, that all of your hard-earned money went back in your dad's pockets."

"Of course, she is. But, my father and my mother can stop going between me to be bitter at each other."

She sat down a bottle of Prosecco. "You know I have some bottles in my cellar."

"I know. But, I brought one to be a nice guest. Plus, I also brought some desert."

"Really? What did you bring?"

"Chocolate chip cookies from this bakery that I like."

"Aww, too bad. I had made a lemon cake, from scratch."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Why so Surprised?"

"I don't know. It's just, you always order take out, I didn't think you cooked, let alone baked."

"I can cook simple things. But what I made tonight, was something new. For you. All fresh ingredients, and a couple of weeks back you told me you liked Lemon Merengue Pie. That was a bit harder to make, according to the recipe. I'll work my way up to it. So, I made lemon cake instead." It weakens me, when she smiles at me, that way. I think I made her a little nervous, by having cooked and baked tonight.

"Well, I'd rather have your lemon cake. We can save my cookies for another time. I'm curious, what's the special occasion?"

"You."

"Me? You made this, just for me. Did I do something to deserve this?"

"Do you have to have done something? No. You are special to me, and I wanted to do something special for you." She walked towards me smiling, and her lips found my cheek. There was a kiss and a hug.

"What's that for?"

"I don't know. I just feel overwhelmed and joyful today. I left yesterday, and it felt weird, being gone, knowing you were here alone with Zozo. And I wanted to call you last night to apologize. We didn't go on our swim, and it affected me. After my mom drove me crazy with questions about my personal life, and drilling me about the beach house, I headed to bed and missed you and Zozo."

"Wow. You missed me?"

"I did. I know, that's probably creepy. And you're not trying to be in something serious. But, as far as my therapy goes, and as far as how my relationship with you has helped me, I just felt the absence of you last night, and it was lonely."

"Why did you text me good night, when you could've called instead?"

"As I've mentioned, we are, kind of dating, kind of friends, and I didn't want to over step a boundary, by being clingy."

"A boundary?"

"Yes. Our relationship has some really blurred lines, and there's certain moments I become confused."

"Don't ever feel, like you're crossing a boundary with me. I cooked you dinner for crying out loud. I don't know where the boundaries are either. I guess, we can figure them out together." Sometimes, Bonnie stares at me in a way that keeps me locked into her. There's a seductiveness that's natural, and draws me to her sexually, that she can't help. And parts of me become very primal. And my primal urges force me to want to smell her, and be as close to her as possible. I walked her to the corner of my kitchen and blocked her there. "You smell different."

"Do I?"

"Yes." I approach her face with mine, and she's unintimidated by me. I almost think she wants me to kiss her. But instead, I gradually slide to the left side of her neck with my nose and sniff her until she can't take the fact that my nose tickles her neck, and she laughs incessantly. "You smell like desert?"

"Lemon cake?"

"No. You smell sweet, though." I wonder if she tastes sweet too. I think about how I'm not big on cunnilingus, but, somehow, that memory of her ex eating her pussy stays with me. The faces she made, her lip biting, hair pulling, the way she melted, into the feeling, and I still wonder, "Do you taste sweet too?"

"Oh, my God. Damon."

"Did I say that out loud?"

She laughed, which was a good sign. "You did."

"Sorry. I've asked myself that a hundred times in my head. And I've become content with keeping it to myself."

She broke the tension by making a joke of it, and licking the back of her hand. "I mean, I taste okay."

"Shut up."

"Hey, you asked." Her smile set me off, and I know she knew damn well what I meant. But I appreciate her always keeping things light. It makes being around her constantly pleasant.

 **...**

"This dinner was amazing. And the desert... oh my God. Damon, lemon cake may be my new favorite cake. You, really took your time, and gave me one of the best dinners, I've ever had." She had spent the entire dinner shooting me praises. I was holding onto all of this guilt, and trying to figure out how to tell her about the lunch I had behind her back. But every few minutes, she was making it harder.

I got up and washed dishes. She helped me. She's already had two drinks, and so have I. I've already gone to the cellar and grabbed a second bottle, and it's halfway done. I'll probably be heading down for a third here soon.

"Finally, the kitchen is clean."

"If I didn't already eat two slices, I might be inclined to eat another. But, I digress."

"So, I have that huge exhibit coming up. I told you that I wanted to know, if you'll model for me?"

"I mean, are a lot of people going to see this?"

"Well, I've developed many connections in my line of work, so I'm inviting many business associates, and also investors, there will be art critics, and buyers there. It's going to be, one of those, fancy parties."

"Oh, I get to wear a fancy dress?"

"Yes. And you get to be the object of everyone's attention." Even though she commanded attention, every time we went anywhere together.

"Will I be your date?"

"I was planning on asking you to oblige me as my beautiful date, although I'm not worthy."

"Okay. I'll do it. Will there be any nude portraits?"

"I haven't decided yet. I kind of don't want anyone seeing you naked."

"Damon...? You're adorable."

Am I, because I don't feel adorable. I feel. Little possessive not wanting to share with the world, something I haven't even gotten to fully experience. Although, I'm sure, I could get some really artistic, pictures of her naked body. "Adorable, if you say so?"

She giggled at me, and shook her head. "What do you want to do now?"

"We can go for a walk and talk, if you'd like. Or, stay here and talk."

"Let's just sit a while. I'd like more Prosecco, wouldn't you?" She served me a suggestive glance, and I stared at her sort of confused.

"I thought you were full?"

"I am, but, we rarely have drinks together."

"Okay. Sure. Let me go and get another bottle."

"Okay. In the meantime, can I use your bathroom?"

"Uhh, do you have to ask?" She smirked and I didn't trust that smirk. But, it was buying me time to bring up this lunch with the woman from my past, and to casually explain the kiss, that meant nothing. At least I think it did. When she disappeared, I grabbed a new bottle, came upstairs, and poured another glass of Prosecco for both of us. The more I drink, the more comfortable I feel, and the more relaxed I become. You can do this Damon. Just tell her. The lunch, meant nothing. The kiss, meant nothing. The ex, means nothi... "What was I saying?" I whispered, when she walked out of the bathroom. I couldn't figure out how to tell her. And the fact that she'd also taken her sweater off, and she stood with her strapless dress, showing of the shoulders I love so much.

"Did it get hot suddenly. Or just me?"

"Maybe it's the wine."

"Yeah. I should open your glass door, and let a breeze in. Is that okay?"

"Yes. Of course." She's now taking her hair and putting it in a bun. No I have no choice but to focus on the entirety of her face, which makes me more nervous. This tight white dress, is almost see through, and I realize I'm focusing too long on what she looks like underneath the dress.

I looked up from her body, after eye gawking it for a hard thirty seconds, then back to her eyes. Her sincere face, and sparkling emeralds. A couch pillow is now covering the crotch of my pants, as I held it there with a purpose. "Bonnie, you know, Zozo slept in my bed, right?"

"Damon, I'm sure I asked you not to spoil him too crazy. He has a bed. Which, I brought here."

"Yeah, but... he also, looked at me, like he felt betrayed by you not coming home."

Suddenly after talking about him we looked around noticing he wasn't there. He took off out the back door. "I think he's running about. I'll be back, let me go find him." She got up and took to the beach to look for him. Coincidentally, at that moment, I happened to check my phone. I'd had some missed texts from my ex.

 **Hey you. How's it goin?**

 **Are you free tonight?**

And to top it off a couple missed calls, I wasn't sure how she perceived the other day. But the fact that I didn't contact her again, I thought was a good indicator that I didn't want to go further with her, then that one kiss. But, then, I had to remembered what my therapist said about being honest and how my actions may be perceived. I responded to her with a text.

 **Hey you. I've been good. Just focused on some work projects. About tonight, I don't think it's a good idea. We had a moment, and I appreciate your apology, and I too am sorry for the part I played.**

 **But, we really shouldn't hang out. I'm sort of seeing someone else, right now. I wish you the best.**

She didn't text me back, so I had to assume she understood. After about ten minutes, Bonnie hadn't come back. I got up to go find her, and see if she needed help finding Zozo. She was all the way by the pier. She was just standing there, and she hadn't been chasing after an over-zealous dog. She was standing out there and just watching the end of the sun set. Zozo, was sitting in the sand next to her. I walked out to her and let my feet bury themselves in the sand next to her.

Of course, I had to take my camera. It was one of those sites you had to capture. She remains quiet for a few minutes and then grabbed my camera. I gave her a crazy look. That's just something you don't do. Touch my camera.

"Whoa. Hey."

"Stop. I won't break your baby. Just... let me take some pictures of you."

"Me? Why?"

"You take all these pictures capturing life around you, and when you look back, what do you have to show for it?"

"Memories. Engrained images of some memorable moments."

"And you can't even watch yourself grow and age in the pictures. So, please, let me take a couple of pictures of you." I... begrudgingly hand her the camera. Something I never do."

"Please turn on the flash, it's dark." I turn it on for her. She takes her time and snaps pictures. I wasn't sure how to pose, so I just stand with my hands in my pocket. "Take your shirt off."

"No."

"Why?"

"That's weird."

"No, it's not. It's beautiful. You're beautiful, Damon. You're, absolutely, breathtaking." She didn't giggle, laugh, or even smile. She looked at me more intensely and waited for my shirt disposal. How often do women say that to men? She said it, and she made me feel that she meant it.

"Fine." It's coming off, it's off. It's somewhere in the sand.

After she took some of the front, she told me to turn around, and she got some of me from behind as well. "Tattoo? What's that tattoo of?" She referred to the one on my ribcage.

"It's nothing."

"It is. Why have a never seen it before?"

"I don't know. I try to keep it covered."

"Why? Who's the reason behind that tattoo?"

"Does it have to be a who? No, I'm just..." she stops me and moves my arm. She now sees a small Rose?

"Wow. Never pegged you for the flower type."

"It's not a flower, it's a Rose."

"Okay. So, why?"

"It's a long stupid story."

"I'm all for long, stupid, stories. I've told you plenty. Come on, connect to me, Damon. You don't talk much about your past." She smiled.

"I just don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. Sorry. Whenever you're ready, I'd love to listen to the story of the tattoo, and the woman behind its meaning." I gave her a hard glance, and back out to the horizon, where the sun had officially set. "She handed me my camera and started to undress.

"What are you doing?"

"Going for our night swim."

"Three and a half hours early?"

"Why not? Let's go."

"Ummm, I'll go take Zozo in and my camera."

"You coming back?"

"Maybe." Truth is I wasn't sure if I'd be back. I need to talk to her, and she kept making it hard for me. As usual, when she stripped, I didn't look at her body. We never look at each other's bodies when we go for our night swims. She walks in front of me, as if she wants me to see her. But I avoid looking down. "Bon, I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"I'd rather wait until your done swimming."

"So, you won't swim with me today?"

"No. I feel like, what I need to tell you will be blurred by that."

I felt her immediately tense up and she walked back towards the water with some bruising to her ego. She went out to the water and swam out far. I went back to my place, and stood in the window, I used to watch her from afar, before I joined her. Zozo was relaxed on my bed, and I grabbed another drink. Only this time it was Bourbon. She swam for what felt like an eternity. It's as if she knew I had something awful to tell her. I waited and waited... and waited. She swam for over an hour. I waited, and had two glasses of bourbon.

Time was killing me right now, and so was Bonnie, because... I'd fallen asleep.

 **...**

At some point she walks back to my place, and I'm not sure how much time had passed, but I woke up and she sat on my bed near me. I lay down, she leaned against the headboard. My eyes flutter open, and she's just wearing my shirt, that I took off and left at the beach. "How long was I out for?"

"I don't know. I was gone for about two hours. I came back and you were already asleep. That was an hour ago."

"So, three hours. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You seemed stressed. The fact that you had something important to tell me and drowned yourself in Bourbon. I thought I'd let you sleep."

"Surprised you didn't leave."

"I started to."

"But?"

"I missed you while I was gone. I told you, that I missed you and Zozo. I didn't want to sleep alone tonight."

"Oh." I'm confused. "You want to stay the night... with me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I told you. I missed you. Did I ever tell you I love the smell of your shirts? I've been sitting here, and sniffing it for the past hour."

"Bonnie, we need to talk." She looks at me and smiles. She's going into one of her modes right now. She tunes out things, when she's not sure how to deal with it. Her hand moves towards my pants, and grabs a hold of my buckle. I'm looking back and forth between she and her hand. Does she realize what she's doing when her hand starts unbuckling it. She slightly becomes rough, and before I realize I should say something my belt is undone, and now, my button is coming undone. I'm supposed to stop her. My mouth opens to speak and she crawls her mouth over mine and gently, inserts her dominance over me. Boy is this woman, good at taking control of me, when she needs to. It's been a while since we've kissed, like this. A long while. A month to be exact. I didn't want to interrupt this feeling. She was intense and soft at the same time. My pants are moving past my hips and luckily, I wore boxer briefs today. It could've been one of those days I went commando.

Her lips never leave mine, while my pants disappear. She is becoming slightly aggressive. I don't mind it, but all it's doing is triggering my aggression. I feel her straddle me, and it didn't take but five seconds before my erection was poking the hottest, wettest, center of her inner thighs. "Hmmm." Her hum came the moment she felt my pressed against her. She pulled up and looked at me, waiting for me to protest. All these months of this woman... all these months of torture, yet some beautiful and special growth. I'm a sex addict. I'm addicted to what she's doing to me, right now. And it's been seven months. She pulled my face back to hers, and I haven't felt this loss of control in a while. Elena had her moments where she needed sex badly. My ex, never needed it, but she made me need it from her, in order to keep her. But this wasn't like that. This was a loss of control, where I couldn't find the force to become aggressive, because she was doing such a good job of making me her bitch in this moment, I just lay there and take it.

This is wrong on so many levels. She's celibate, a year, and me seven months. This is a huge mistake we are going to ruin this beautiful constancy in our lives. This beautiful connection we've made. The healthiest relationship feather of us has ever had.

Alas, I can't allow her to do this. I attempt to speak. And she was pinning my arms above my head, before she whispered. "Take the shirt off of me."

"Bonnie, I can't do that."

She looked at me like I was joking, because she still has no idea, I'm a sex addict too. She has no idea that she's changed the entire anatomy of my sexuality, in terms of desirability. She plants herself firmly on my rock-hard dick, and again, moved in such a way, she was almost in complete ecstasy. Not having sex for a while, makes the slightest sexual gesture, a heightened sexual experience. "Fuck, Bonnie."

Her pussy was grinding into my dick, and I just wanted this moment to take her away from her past, make her forget anything that existed outside of us, and fuck her, like she was my oxygen. I wanted to breathe her and feel every inch of her inside and out. I muscle her around a. It, trying to pin her arms behind her back, because she's making me want to take away all of her fight and make her cry, in pain, and beg for mercy. We got too rough and frenzied, while she was pinning me down, that in my quest to gain a little control, we fell off the bed to the floor, and my body trapped hers beneath me. I reversed this moment on her, and let her know what it was. I pinned her down and made her look me in the eye, while her eyes begged for it. "Look at me." I demanded. I felt myself gaining some of my power back. She was thirsting for me, and this is the position I loved to have women in. At my mercy. She stares at me, silently, begging with her eyes, and lip biting. I whisper into her lips, her cheek, her ears; the shit that was running through my mind.

"I could rip this shirt off of you, right now, and make this painfully, rough. I could push your legs apart, and shove my dick so hard inside of you, that you beg me to stop. I could really, really hurt you something painful." I stop and listen to her breathing heavy, and trying to take all of my oxygen, from me, moaning slightly. It turns me on to hear her, and feel her... she's weak for my body to conjoin with hers, while we take this moment to just stare at each other. "On the other hand, I could even take my time. I could force your body to suffer, while I torture you with my deep, and slow thrust, and stroke you into a fucking pile of mush."

"Do it." She breathed, "make me mush!" She's pulling my pelvis into her hot wet center. And she surprised me, with her ambition.

"I can't I will ruin you." I forgot I need to tell her something.

"I won't let you ruin me, Damon."

"I don't want to ruin you. It's just what happens. I'm bad at this." She put her hand on my dick and started to stroke me outside of my boxer briefs. I didn't think I could possibly get any harder, but I did. My dick, now feels like a weapon, and she's the target.

"I'll help you. I'm good at this." She gave sexy giggle, and she thought I meant I was bad at sex. Pft. This woman has no idea, the things I can do to her. The things, I would do to her. She dug deeper into me, forcing the heat of her pussy to hug my dick.

"I don't want to hurt you Bonnie. I know what will happen. We'll have sex, well love it, it'll be the best sex we've ever had, and we'll want to make each other feel this good all the time. We'll have sex for hours and days. But, I have commitment issues, and I will break your heart." I groaned, and grunted. "But lord knows, I want to make you feel every inch of me, and make you scream my name, over, and over... again, right fucking now." She has nothing on under this shirt. She's the devil. I'm trying to fight her, I am, but I don't want to. I need this.

"Damon, put it, inside of me. Let me show you, how good I'll feel, wrapped around you. How hot and wet I am, and how much my pussy chokes you, and squeezes you lifeless." Fuck. She's better at this than I thought. All I want is to make her understand this can't happen. Not yet, not like this. Not before I come clean. "Oh baby. Your cock is so hard." She whispered into my ear, and it drove me crazy. When she let her tongue do this thing, that she does sometimes, to get me to shut up. Her legs are pried apart now, and I can smell how turned on she is. I miss that smell. God, I love the smell of pussy. I'm weak, I'm so fucking weak.

"Your pussy wants me. I can smell you."

"What do I smell like?"

"My addiction." She didn't catch on to what that meant.

"You feel addicted to me?"

"I'm addicted to your smell. I want to taste you. I really want to taste you. But... Bonnie... we can't ruin-"

"I'm stronger than that. If anything, I'll ruin you, so that you never want to leave me."

"God Bonnie. You're fucking wet. Fuuuuuck!" I scream into her shoulder, trying to contain myself.

"I need you Damon." She looked me dead in my eyes, and I couldn't pull out of this moment. She wanted to relapse, and so did I. "My pussy game is magical." What does that even mean? I don't know, but it made me truly believe she cums in glitter and gold, with cupcake sprinkles. Her nails dig into my ass and I'm pissed that I'm still wearing briefs.

"I'm not a good guy."

"A bad boy with bad cock. That's the combination that fits me. I'm a good girl, with good pussy. I need that big bad cock inside of me."

"Who the fuck are you right now?" She grinned and tugged at my briefs. "I can't fuck you. I will ruin you. You deserve better than me." But the more I said it, the more my old ways were setting in. I needed this. I needed to hear her, beg, and beg, and feed my ego.

"Why do you keep saying that? I'm a big girl." She pulls my briefs down, and my dick is officially touching her pussy. She smiles so sinfully dark and twisted at me. And in her own dark, demented way, she pushed herself upwards, trying to fuck me from underneath me. "Oh yeah, he's fucking ready to be inside of her isn't he?" She was talking in the third person about our genitals, and it was sexy. She talks the way a man like me, or most men in general, love to hear, from a woman they want to fuck more than they want to breath. Her hips push up and I make her work for it.

"You want this dick. Take it!" She liked that challenge. She liked that she had to work a little harder to accommodate me, too. My dick finds its way to her, and she smiled, before maneuvering her leg to my shoulder, and letting her pussy hug me. I can't move, I feel so selfish. God, I'm selfish. I feel her try to accept me, and the head of my dick finally squeezes through the barrier. Her mouth drops open, and her head falls back.

"God. Yes. Fuck yes." She says under her breath. Then slowly, her pussy began swallowing my dick, inch by inch... slowly. She looked back up at me, whimpering in pain, and loving how much she was hurting, and how much her ache was being soothed, by the pain of having sex for the first time in a year. My dick can hardly breath moving into her, she was right. She's choking him, with her pussy, and I lost my breath. I almost passed out.

"Good god woman."

Magical pussy game... sounds about right. My eyes, roll to the back of my head, and she gently cups my face with her soft fingertips, and when I'm all the way inside of her... like a little bitch I almost cried. She saw it too. She saw my eyes get watery. And I bit my lip. "Let it out, Damon, give me all of the pain. I promise I'll make it better." She started working her body from underneath me, then she's fucking me like she's masturbating, because I see her in this world, that she controlled. She's controlling me, and I'm giving her all this emotion, it she can't see it, because I'm holding it back, but I'm giving it to her, because I feel myself, letting it all go, when inside of her.

Her hips roll like the devil dancing in the moon light, and I finally take my position more seriously, and I grab each of her wrist, pin them above her head, and thrust. Hard. Then again, harder! I. Angry, I'm taking out anger, and I'm fucking her angrily at first. But she loves it.

"Aaaahhhhh. Yesssss... Damon. Let me feel it. Let me feel how you feel. Please." Her eyes open and she bites her lip again. She's into this, and she loves it as much as I do, and the minute, her hands hold my back, and I realize she's still wearing my shirt. I rip it off, and I want to be rough. I just want to be rough as fuck. And I start of that way. I fuck her and almost paralyze her, because she did start to cry. She was angry too. I fuck the anger out of her.

"Like that? Huh? You like it rough?" I ask her but she can't answer me because she's crying.

But, somehow, she changed the entire moment, and became really soft as she gave me an intimate stare down, and I could see the mounds of her bouncing breast, before me, and the moon sparkling in her eyes. "You're are so worth my wait, Damon. I think I'm in love with you."

At this point I couldn't keep my hands off her. I groped and grabbed every part of her body. I didn't repeat the phrase to her. I didn't feel right to just say it then. But I felt eternally connected to her, and all I wanted to do was thrust deep, and hard.

Selfishly, I needed to hear her call my name, and praise me. The old me was surfacing. The selfishness, the neediness, the sexual predator, the aggressor, the bastard that needed everything in that moment, form her, and all I could give her is pleasurable screams. No emotion. I don't know why I reverted. But I did, and I know she deserves more than that from me, but she scares me to death, and all I want to do, is keep this moment. I may not have given her my words, but I gave her everything I had physically.

Inside of this moment, I had nothing. Everything that I was, belonged to her. I belonged to Bonnie. Even if I couldn't say it. I felt it, and I know she felt it, because she looked me in the eyes again and made me her bitch. "Oh fuck, you feel so good. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum so hard. Please cum with me, I want to feel you cum inside of me." If I've said it once, I've said it twice, I don't do that with women, but everything flew out the window in that moment, and everything I had, I gave to her. And as I said, maybe not with words, but with my being. We came at the same time, and she screamed and cried my name, over and over. "Damon, Damon, Damon. Oh my God. Damon." I felt her body shake, and the most power I had, came in the moments I felt her body shake, and held her inside of my arms. And I held her through her orgasm, because hers lasted longer than mine. And before you know it, I felt myself dripping, out of her pussy, before I even pulled out. My cum was inside of her, and I haven't felt that in years.

This woman has changed my life. I don't know what I'm going to do. I almost want to disappear, to avoid hurting her. I don't know, how to not hurt women.

We calmed, gradually. I couldn't move, I collapsed on top of her, while I was still inside of her. When she realized, how much was taken out of me, she kissed me. She peppered my face, my lips, my neck, my chest, my shoulders, my arms with kisses. Gentle, soft, loving kisses. For God's sake, she told me she was falling in love with me, and I didn't say it back. All she did, was accept me, and my imperfections. She gave me something, I'd never had... complete acceptance.

I don't deserve her. I never have.

 **...**

I woke up at seven am. She wasn't there. She was there all night. I know, because I felt her tucked under my arm. I felt her heart beat. I felt her need. I felt her hand holding my chest and her leg wrapped around my waist. I felt her love. The entire night. But now she was gone.

But, in this moment, she's not lying next to me. I sit up, like a bad nightmare. All of those beautiful things I felt, all of those emotions, she gave me... I felt something different. It felt like something was taken from me. "Bon Bon?" I call out and there's no answer, but something's not right. I get up, I'm naked but I didn't give a fuck. So, I just grabbed the sheet, and wrap it round me. I walked, out of my bedroom and into my living room, forward to the kitchen. I hear voices. Bonnie, being one, and the other I couldn't make out.

I just heard Bonnie saying, "You're a liar. He wouldn't do that... he wouldn't keep that from me."

This can't be happening. This... this must be some horrible nightmare. I hit the corner of my kitchen and walk around the other hallway to find Bonnie standing at my door, with one of my shirts on, and nothing else. My ex, standing in the doorway. "What the fuck?"

"Damon?"

"Rose, what are you doing here, and how did you find where I lived?"

"I came to see you. I just needed to see you face to face."

"I told you, we couldn't do this." Bonnie looked between us confused. "Rose, you need to leave."

"You didn't tell her... about lunch. I had no idea, you were with someone, when we met for lunch."

"I told you yesterday."

"You guys spoke yesterday?" Bonnie's voice trembled with doubt.

"Damon, I miss you. I've been going crazy, thinking about how things ended. Can we at least talk?"

"Rose, we spoke already. I don't- don't do this. We were amicable, and friendly. Let's leave it at that."

"Right? So, the lunch, the kiss... it meant nothing?"

"Kiss..." Bonnie head fell back, like she was trying to conceal tears.

I couldn't speak. I was too nervous. I didn't have an answer, I just wanted to disappear. And, from a faint sound, I thought I heard Bonnie make a noise, but I couldn't react, because Rose started acting out, and begging me. I don't even know what she was saying. I grabbed her by her wrists to keep her from hitting me, and apologizing to me, but it was hard to focus with her spewing emotion at me, that I'd never seen her do before, with these false misleading words. For minutes we argued, and I tried to keep her from hitting me. Suddenly, in all of the commotion, it was Bonnie who pulled her off of me. She shoved Rose towards the door, and out of it. "Get out. Just... Go!"

Rose looked shocked.

"Who are you, to tell me? You have no idea about who I am to him. I was his wife!"

"Ex-wife!" I said. And Bonnie never knew I was married.

Bonnie looked at me, like it was true then back at Rose. "You two are obviously toxic together. Can't you see that? Stop being so dismissive. Move on. Or leave, and if he wants to talk to you, he'll call you. But right now, you need to go!" I'd never seen Bonnie like this outside of dealing with Lorenzo. She really was good about not taking people's shit.

I don't know if it was because it came from Bonnie, but somehow the words hit Rose hard, and I saw a tear fall from her eye, and she looked back and forth between Bonnie and me. Then she found the nearest object in my house. A vase. She threw it at me, and spoke her final words to "I will always be your wife."

Bonnie closes the door in her face, and I'm more scared of her, than I've ever been of anything in my life in these moments. Until I see her face, and her tears. Still, I'm stuck, without the right words. My loss of words is getting the best of me, and kicking me in the ass. She waited, and I stood there.

"You're not going to defend that?"

"Bon Bon-"

"Don't Bon Bon me."

"I wanted... I mean, I tried to tell you."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"All day. We had all day. We had all week. Last Tuesday was it...? The day, you cancelled on me?"

"Bon Bon-"

"Don't! You can't call me that. Just answer me one thing?" I looked at her and my hands started to shake... "Is it true?"

"It's not what it-"

"Don't excuse it, or downplay it. Did you kiss her?"

"We kissed. Yes."

"And, did you stop it?"

"Bonnie, please... let me-"

"Yes, or no?"

"No, I didn't, but-"

"And you were married?"

"Not really it's complicated. We got it annulled, it's like it never happened."

"But it did happen."

"But it isn't that simple. I'm not perfect. I have some things I've been wanting to tell you. And, it's not as easy as you would think."

She looked down at my ribcage. "And now I get it. Rose. The tattoo, is for her."

"It was stupid and painful. Much like my relationship."

"It's funny because, that is the most you've ever told me about anything with any person in your life, from before me. I've told you all about me. My issues, my reasons for being in therapy, Lorenzo, Elijah, my parents, my strengths, my weaknesses... everything. Zozo, even. I've opened up to you and brought you into my world. Yet, and still, I'm a stranger in yours."

"No, Bonnie. It's not true. I just-"

"It's okay, Damon. I told you, I'm not that girl. I can take a hint. Last night, I said I was falling in love with you, and you couldn't say it back. It's fine. There was no pressure for you to. I didn't expect you to say it back. We were being intimate, and for once, I felt emotion inside of you. So, I did what I do best. Ruin things, with my overly emotional, and spiritual greediness. I just had to tell you how I felt at that moment. I'm not mad you didn't say it back. But, the lie, the kiss, the secrecy, the marriage... I just... I wanted to give you the opportunity to be more open, and it's... it's okay. Damon. You're right. You will hurt me. And in the long run, I just can't do this."

I knew what was coming. I felt it, in her entire stance, her energy, everything. I was standing there wanting to scream and beg her to stay, and I think she hoped I would. But I couldn't. My mouth couldn't speak, the words wouldn't come out. "Good bye, Damon. I wish, the very best for you. And I don't regret last night. My actions, my words. Breaking my celibacy for you. I don't regret relapsing for you. Everything, meant something to me." She smiled, forcefully through tears, her lips were shaking as tears fell down her face. She didn't try to hide them. It wasn't in her. She was openly emotional, and I loved that about her. I loved everything about her, but especially that.

"Bonnie, it's just that-"

"Don't, okay. Don't... make an excuse. I can accept many flaws. But I just can't accept the fact that, you're not ready for me. You're on your own path and I want you to make the most of it, and you should enjoy it. No regrets, okay. Live your life for you. No one else. Not me, not Rose, not Elena. For you."

Why was she so forgiving and humbled? It hurt me, that I couldn't just make myself be, who she needed, at this very moment. I had so much to say to her, but I was choking, in my own head. Don't leave me. I thought. Don't walk out. I thought. I'm sorry. I'm a pathetic bastard, and you deserve better. I'll give you better. All thoughts. And none left my lips in the form of words.

Words. Those things that mean so much to her. And I couldn't find the right ones, right now. Because I was so afraid, my words would be wrong, or once again, equal rejection, since it seems she's made up her mind.

She walked away from me, and within minutes grabbed her things, and whistled for Zozo, and they left out of the back door. My mouth wanted to call out to her, but I couldn't find the words.

* * *

 **One more chapter... Thanks for Reading! Thoughts…**


	6. ENABLER

**ADDICT  
Part 6 - ENABLER  
R-M MATURE FOR EVERYTHING!**

 **The conclusion to this short story. It's long I know, I'm sorry, I don't realize until uploaded it to my computer, after I wrote it. The longest chapter have ever written. But I didn't wanna break it into two chapters. Thank you all for showing love and support. And I feel like I connected with a few of you through your reviews of this story. I pay attention to all your words, and honestly, I love how his story, her story, their story, this story, affected you. I hope you enjoy the rollercoaster conclusion. It would mean a lot if you could review this final chapter! Y'all are dope!**

* * *

 **...**

 **Therapy session**  
 **...**

"It's been three weeks, Doc."

"And how do you feel?"

"I don't know. Numb. I mean, career wise, life is good. But, personally, I think I've lost my very best friend. Christmas is in a couple of days. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"What's the goal you have for your life right now?"

"Isn't that something you should help me with?"

"No. I can't make your life decisions. But, I can help you to evaluate everything that you eventually use as the tools to make a decision."

"I don't want to be here."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"I just want to make sure we get to the bottom of your not wanting to be here."

"Somehow, the meaning in my life is gone. I'm here, I'm existing. But I'm not living."

"What's the difference between the two in your mind?"

"The difference is, I'm not serving a purpose. I wake up. I go to work. I come home, eat, and sleep."

"But...?"

"But, existing isn't living. It's surviving, without a reason."

"When the last time you really felt like you were living?"

"You know when." I paused, imaging the last time I felt alive. It was when we made love in my bedroom on the floor. "The last time I spent time with her."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not really. What can I say? I meant to tell her what happened between Rose and me. Every day that went by, and every hour that went by, it was harder and harder. I felt like I was suffocating. But, I'd rather have suffocated, than to hurt her. I'd rather, hurt myself, than hurt her."

"Those are extremely powerful words, Damon. Do you think, she wanted that for you? Suffocation."

"No. She'd actually hate the idea of me hurting myself, or me hurting in general. She's always very, open to wanting to be there for me. But... I shut her out and it kills me there was no other way. I didn't want to end up hurting her."

"But, you understand you did hurt her, right? You hurt her, by trying so hard not to."

"I'm a screw up. I can't... I don't know how to do this stuff, Doc. I would look at her, and want to be better. Then I try to be better and realize, that I'm just a regular guy and it's impossible to be the man she needs. I'm not worthy of her. No one is."

"That's not true. Sounds like she proved time and time again, you were who she wanted. Damon, you're past happens to get to you, and you start doubting yourself, because of... her. The one who hurt you all those years ago. I think, maybe, it's a good time to talk about her. Now that you feel at you're lowest, let's reach the memories buried deep down in there. Are you ready, Damon? To talk about the one who broke your heart?"

I look at my therapist for a while before answering. This will be the question of a century. Do I want to talk about her, and say good bye to her for good? Or, do I want to hold onto the memories and pain?

My therapist stares back at me, waiting for me to talk.

 **...**

 **Friday - A month after the incident**

 **...**

I spent Christmas without her. It's okay, though, because I spent the day at the studio. Alone, finding some solace, in my art. Bonnie still has her routine. I see her come and go, often. I know she works, but she's leaving more often than before. I notice it. She knows I notice it. But she tries to be low key about it. It's one of those new qualities I have, that doesn't usually happen to me, and it's known as jealousy. Someone is getting her time, and it kills me.

A while ago, she agreed to a project for me, for a gallery. I do a lot of magazine spreads, but I also am an artist by way of freelance. I wanted some more human specimen works for my studio. Some still shots on the beach and some natural body photography. She agreed to this. She'll be here soon, and all I want is for it to be normal, between us.

A quiet knock at the front door sounds and I'm knocked out of my daydream. Just a month ago, she was walking in my backdoor like my best friend, and today we're back to being just neighbors. And not even the ones who speak every day. I'm nervous to see her though. What if she hates me? Or can't look me in the eye? I open the door to see her. She looks like a breath of fresh air. I feel like I can breathe again. "Bonnie, you look very pretty." She wore a powder pink dress. It was long and flowy, with thin straps, and backless. Her hair was all brushed to one side, in these big waves. What is she doing to me? She looks like a bronze goddess.

"Thank you, Damon. You look handsome too." She was smiling, and waiting for me to invite her in. I moved out of the way so she could come in. She brisked past me, and I smelled her. She smelled so familiar, and sweet. When I saw the skin of her back, it reminded me of our last interaction. Her naked body, below mine, and her flesh was my flesh. "So, you said some beach pictures, and nudes?"

"Nudes? No nudes are social media term for dick pics and sexting. I'm going to take some tasteful natural body, aka nude visuals of you." I was completely speaking out of my ass, to break the ice.

"Fine, Damon." A humbled smile shot from her lips, and we felt familiar again. "So, I didn't know how to wear my hair, I just kind of did this romanticized style. I thought I had an idea of what you wanted. I could be wrong." Her hair was naturally curly, and today, she straightened it, and put some beautiful loose curls in it.

"No, you were right. You're perfect."

"Okay. So, should I walk out towards the water, or are we doing pictures in the sand?"

"Just be normal, okay? Act as if I'm not here."

She walked out and I got the film in my camera ready, and double checked the setting, getting ready for the lighting outside. I watched her walk into the breeze. Unfortunately, it wasn't over cast like I'd hoped, for being December. It was sunny. Thank you, California. But, Bonnie loved sunny days, and I can see why. Her skin against the sun, shines like a bronzed statue. The bright white smile, illuminates the setting even more. Don't get me started on her eyes.

Some moments, just the shots of the back of her dress, and her skin were perfect. I couldn't even relax my senses, the more I watched her. And sometimes, she just laughed, at nothing. And I remembered, how she told me, when she's nervous, she remembers funny moments in her head, and it makes her laugh to ease the tension. I wonder why she's nervous.

We were outside for over an hour in perfect lighting before the sun got too high in the sky. "Okay. I've got all I need out here. We can head in now."

"I feel like I could go for a swim. Wanna swim?" It's funny she asks me, because she doesn't swim anymore.

"Uhh, I would, but, I need to get these photos done. I need to develop them before the dead line. But... if I was using my digital camera I would." I'm an idiot, and I needed to say yes. I need to find a way to redeem myself.

"It's fine I probably shouldn't anyway. I have to be somewhere later." Where he hell does she have to be? God, I hope she's not dating someone. She walked into the house, and I wasn't far behind her.

"Oh, so, am I pressed for time?"

"Not exactly. I'm sure we have some time." When she said that, I felt like there was some stipulations to us spending time together. I could just feel it in her tone. "Should I just take the dress off, or...?"

"Take your time with it. Give me some patience, while you slip out of it. And face the window." I watched her carefully slide out of the dress, and it was a sight to see. The pictures of her sliding the straps over her shoulders were probably my favorite. Until she sat down, with her nude form, at the edge of the bed, and I saw the lowest part of her tailbone, and hips flare out as she was a silhouette of herself with the sun as a back drop.

Her hair fell to one side, with deep curls, and she didn't have to try hard to be my muse. Her on my bed, naked, was more muse than I could've asked for. Skin, shoulders, back, ass, curves, contours, lighting, sheets, vulnerability... she was like a flower, blossoming. Every petal, felt like I had watered her roots. I felt like a part of this. I move to the front of her body, and get some full frontal. This, woman, takes me by surprise every time I'm near her.

"Lay back. Just... think about something that turns you on, I don't need you to be sexual, just aroused." I watched the softness of her breast, and how relaxed she was. She moved her body comfortably. I want to know what she's thinking about. But I won't ask. Instead, I'll ask about her plans later. "So-ahhh, how have you been?"

"Good. Just, keeping myself busy."

"Yeah, same with me. How was your Christmas?"

"Ugh. I worked. My show, that's coming up has everyone on a crazy schedule. I worked, Christmas and I'll work New Year's too. No partying for me. In fact, I'm sure I'll be sleep, from exhaust before the countdown."

I was happy to hear, that it wasn't only be, spending the holidays working, and basically alone. Selfishly, I didn't want her to have fun without me. But I digress. I don't want her to be miserable either.

"Same for me. Work, takes a lot of time right now. Especially since I'll be working on this set I'm taking of you today, on New Year's, so I can meet this deadline."

"It's for the best, ya know." She doubtfully said. "These holidays just end up being people spending unnecessary amounts of money on pointless gifts, and alcohol. I shouldn't be drinking anyways. Not 'til my show is over." She looked so beautiful, right now. I can't help but gawk. I need to change the subject.

"How's your therapy going?"

"You know, same old. Just... sorting through things once again."

I paused, because I wanted to delve deeper like a normally did. I did what my therapist asked. I got to know her. I asked about her and listened. And in doing that, I neglected allowing her to know more about me. I didn't want it to come off that way. But, I thought I was doing the right thing. I just feel as though, if I ask, she might not accept my inquiring mind's need to know what she's doing. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Damon..." she gave me that, _I should know better than to ask her that_ face.

"Sorry, it's just... I haven't spoken to you in a month. Just wondered what's new in your life lately?"

"I just think, it's not a good idea to divulge as intimately as we used to."

"Why not? We are friends, or at least I thought we were."

"Damon, I came to help for this photo shoot, because I'd agreed to it, before all of this happened. I don't really want to encourage a negative conversation." I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm not good at this, but I want to know what I'm supposed to do, right now. Because I can't handle her being so, far away from emotionally. I missed that, I need that.

"Bonnie, I'm sorry. I just... want to know you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm good." I must've made her uncomfortable, because she covered her body with the bed sheet.

"Don't do that. I'm sorry. You... you've never felt the need to shield your body from me. Relationship or not. You're always comfortable enough to be free."

"Well, things change."

"Really? Like what? You dating someone?" I laughed, because she sounded ridiculous. But, when she didn't say anything, or smile back, I knew I couldn't possibly defeat this issue anymore. I'm now, backed into a corner, because I feel like I have to make a move, before I lose her forever. "Seriously? Four weeks! Bonnie, four weeks... that's all it took?"

She looked at me, like she wanted to slap me. "I should go."

"No." When she got up to leave I grabbed her. Then she offensively pulled away, and sat back on the bed.

"I'm sorry. Please don't, feel offended. You deserve to be happy." She sat a few minutes before removing the sheet. Suddenly she stopped, and held it over her parts. I walked close to her to gently remove the sheet. And she held it tighter. "Listen, I'm sorry, okay. Just relax. Tell me what I can do to help you to relax, and I'll do it."

She became timid, so I kneeled in front of her, gently pulling at the sheet. It was more in this moment, than it should've been. I put my camera down, and scooted it to the side. Then slowly, without breaking eye contact, I know I read her mind, when I spread her legs. Both of my hands cupped her knees, opening her legs until she was fully exposed to me. I wanted nothing more, in this moment, than to taste her. I'd craved this for a month. From the night we made love until now, this is what I've craved.

"Damon, I'm seeing someone, and I-"

"Before you finish that sentence, just tell me...when I asked you to think of something that turned you on... what's the first thing that came to mind?"

"You." She closed her eyes, avoiding me. "But, it doesn't matter. I'm seeing someone."

"It matters. Hell yeah it matters. You thought of me." I lay her back, lift her spread legs, and my mouth absorbs every ounce of her heat. She tastes like, I should be doing this every day. The pink flesh, of the inside of her pussy, is nicely lubricated, by my tongue. And her juices, are dripping from her. I stare for a few seconds, then use my tongue to catch it as it drips from her. I taste it, and go back to making love to her pussy, with my entire mouth. She pulls my hair, moaning. I move slowly, but deep, and I can feel her back arching, and her thighs gripping my head, while I eat her like a snack for the next twenty minutes. I make her forget about whoever he is. And again, that sound I was addicted to, rang in my ears again. My name, being screamed, my hair being pulled while I was eating her, and her coming more than once. Most of my life, this wasn't the way I intended to make a woman cum, but I can safely say, she's my new addiction. Not the sexual aspect of us... but her in general. I get a high from her.

She tasted exactly how I thought she would. I made my way back up her body, allowing my lips to kiss every inch of her all the way up. She patiently allow me to finesse her body, until I made it to her lips. "Damon. I have to get ready to go."

"Stay."

"I can't."

"You're boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend. Were just dating."

"You like him?"

"I don't know, Damon. It's new. It's only our fourth date."

"Four dates already?"

"Yeah. You know, people who like each other, go out, hold hands, kiss in public, show people their happy... they even talk about their past, let you get to know them emotionally. They get to know each other, and decide-"

"I get it Bonnie. He's giving you something I couldn't."

"No. You could've, and didn't want to. And it's okay. You'll find the woman, that makes you want to give her everything."

"Bonnie, you're worth giving the world too."

"Maybe so. But I never wanted the world, Damon. I just wanted you." Every time she speaks, I listen. She got up and got dressed.

"The gallery event is a week from today. You are cordially invited if you'd like to see yourself on display. For what's it's worth, I won't show any nude frontal visuals. You can see the film that will be used ahead of time, and sign a confidentiality clause.

"Send me the contract, I'll sign it. I trust your judgement."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, Damon. We can't spend time together this way, it's harder for me than I thought it would be. I thought I'd be fine, but I'm not."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think about it that way. Just needed to see you. You were perfect today, by the way."

"Thank you. Will I be receiving a formal invite?"

"Of course. I can bring it by, this weekend."

"I won't be home this weekend."

"Oh. Ummm. I can drop it in your mail box."

"Do I have a plus one?"

That question threw me off. But, I'm doing the rig thing. I know I am. And, I don't want to be petty. "Yes of course."

"Good. So, I'll see you next Friday." She said in a monotone.

"Okay Bonnie." I kissed her cheek before she left.

 **...**

 **Sunday**

 **...**

I'm holding Bonnie's invite. I have no idea what I'll do if she brings him. But, it's fine, because he should see what I see, when I see her. I doubt he does. I doubt anyone does. And so, the purpose of this gallery is for one simple thing. Truth. I hold the invitation in my hand. I open her mailbox, and casually slide it inside. She's been gone the weekend. And Zozo is gone too. How am I losing the girl, and the dog that liked me?

It's so unfair. I feel like, he was our child.

Here goes, open the slot, drop it, until I hear it land on the floor. It's there. She officially has the invite. And my last chance, to be more than I've been.

I walk away casually, slinking my shoulders. I feel like a different person. For once, and after all of this... it took me, realizing, that I had more inside of myself, than I ever believed. I'm not so hollow after all.

When half the day goes by, I feel even more stronger, in my convictions. I've spent a couple of hours yesterday, developing film. I felt myself stop breathing a couple of times. Just, holding my breath at the mere thought of how, when I see her, I can't believe I've actually been a part of her life. I can't believe I've touched her, been inside of her, breathed her hair while she slept, had her mind, her body, and soul at one point. The complexity of this bond, formed between us, is actually one of the simplest things I have. Why did I think this was so damn hard? I've always needed simple, and little did I know, I would find it, in the one woman, who has the same deep-rooted insecurities as me.

I love looking at her while she's reading, and sleeping. I love watching her cry, when she's alone. Not because I enjoy seeing her in pain, but because, I know she purposely takes out time every week to cry, because she believes it's good for the soul. She makes me see things, for what they are, and not what they appear. These pictures capture the very essence of how I see her.

She's the woman I've always dreamt about, and never knew existed.

 **... ART GALLERY ...**

I'm wearing a suit. This is my life every weekend. I go to art shows, galleries, charity events, and most of the time, I'm enjoying all of the beauty. Bonnie went to a few events with me. The ones I knew Elena wouldn't be at, and I didn't stay long, out of fear of these women from my past. These events signify too much of who I always was, before her. So, I went to less when she and I dated, The art, the women, the spectators. These events are always about money, liquor, and sex. It's what it is. Many of these women I've slept with. Once maybe twice. I'm used to getting hit on, winked at, and waited for. It's nothing to brag about. Maybe last year, it would've been brag worthy. But this year, it's an empty feeling. These people don't know me, on the inside. They don't take the time to understand me as an artist or a man. It's deafeningly lonely.

My work is covered, waiting for an unveiling. Everyone's invitation said seven. Except Bonnie's. Hers said eight. So, she and her date, will walk in together. They'll be photographed, and she'll be interviewed at the end of the showing, for some upcoming volumes of art magazines and blogs. I'm willing to accept her bringing him. Because it only matters to me that she's happy with the end result. And when it's said and done, I hope she has clarity on me, and what it all means to me, the moments and times we've shared. The impact she had on me and how she's affected me. This showing is more of a professing of truth.

Once and for all.

 **...**

I've waited, for this moment, to see her walk in, and she's here. She's wearing a long flowing emerald lampshade style silk skirt. It drops to her ankles, and she's wearing some beautiful gemstone covered sandals. Her shirt is a cream color. It shows both her back and her midriff. Wrapping around her neck, but leaving her back and stomach open for viewing, I was stuck on her. It looked like an African style fashion ensemble. Here I am... Waiting to see who she'd show up with I couldn't manage to see her date over everyone. I was being tugged at, from left to right. So, I'd have to stop spying, for now, and get things ready to go.

It wasn't until I'd watched Elena surprisingly show up, that I became nervous. I didn't need her to ruin tonight for me, and definitely not for Bonnie. But, she brought him again. The same man from the charity event. A man I'd seen around before. A man, she was obviously intimate with. And finally, the man in question, had a name and I placed it. Because, now, I've actually met him.

It was Lorenzo. And I realize, he and Elena had been in a relationship. For probably what was years. She'd mentioned a man before, but as an ex. I'd seen pictures of him in her place, but again, she called him her ex. And at that point, I hadn't met him through Bonnie yet. So, I didn't put two and two together. When I saw her months back at the charity event, it was Lorenzo. It now occurs to me, we are involved, unknowingly in some dysfunctional quadship.

It's time for my unveiling, and I spot the woman in question. She's smiling with champagne in her hand, and I look to make sure Lorenzo and Elena are nowhere near her. I'd prefer that they leave, but I can't have them escorted out yet, because I have to unveil my work. The two of them, of anyone, should see this. The lights lower, with the exception of some visual effects lighting. Pinks, red, and rare, glimpses of yellows. All of my photos are black and white. The theme of the Gallery event was clear to everyone on their invite, with the exception of Bonnie. Her invite was different.

As the theme was also unveiled, confusion spread across Bonnie's face when she read the words **_Fragments of Intimacy._** All of her hair was swept to one side. So, she used that to cover her face, when she noticed me watching her. She sipped her champagne, and continued to look at the exhibit. She walked around slowly, taking in all of the pictures, as she sipped her champagne. I saw her stop in front of one of the photos. It was her, sitting on the bed. The image of her from the back as she sat on the edge of my bed, facing the ocean. The indentation at her spine, was prominent in the photo, and it made her look like an ethereal dream.

After about half an hour, I was mingling and being asked about photos when I was interrupted by Elena. She always had a knack for boldly inserting herself inside of my personal space, without welcome. But, for me, tonight is about moving forward, and progressing in the right direction. While I want to kick Elena out after her performance, and kick Lorenzo's ass again, this night isn't just about me. It's about someone, I realize, I don't want to be without.

"So, every... single... picture... is of her?"

"It appears that way."

"Wow. So what are you... in love with her?"

I ignore that question and skip right the part I've been dying to know. "How long have you and him, been a thing?"

"Uhhh... why?"

"Because, I just want to know."

"About two years. But when you and I... he and I were on the outs, so..."

"Well, things worked out for the better, right?"

"Damon, don't do that. You know, I cared about you. But unfortunately, you apparently couldn't be tied down."

"And do you have any idea his history?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning who he was dealing with besides you."

"I mean, I don't ask questions about the past."

"Were you aware he had a girlfriend? Or fiancé while you were together?"

"He told me, that they were having problems. Why are you so inquisitive?"

"Because maybe, you should ask him, why he's paying such close attention to these photos." Elena turned to look for him and saw him, especially stuck on one picture. I couldn't see which one it was, but he had been standing there a while.

"I'm not worried about his looking at a random woman in a photograph. What I am, however, worried about, is you being here, promoting this woman. What do you see in her?"

"If you can't see it, in this exhibit, then I don't know what to tell you."

"Why her?"

"She makes me better. She helped me see who I want to be?"

"So, what... does she make you happy or something?" She asked me dryly, but I could tell she was really interested in the answer.

"To say happy, wouldn't do justice, what she makes me feel. When a woman commands the right things from a man, she brings out his best. And if he truly loves her, he decides he wants to give her his best." And we both turned at one point to see Bonnie standing, and observing a photo of herself, with sunglasses on, sitting on her porch, feeling some sense of exhaustion. She sipped her champagne, then put it on a tray of a passing server and she headed out the side entrance, to an opened sitting area, that was outside. I thought I should go after her, until I saw Lorenzo spot her and walk after her. And, if I spotted that, then so did Elena. She watched carefully and walked closer to the window looking outside.

Bonnie didn't realize he was out there, and I wanted to interrupt, because he didn't deserve her time. But, I tried to control my temper and just watch. I don't think he'd make the mistake of putting his hands on her again. I wanted to give her privacy, so I tried to continue talking to people. But the fact that I can't hear what they're saying is driving me crazy. I notice his hand goes to her shoulder, and she moves away from him, uncomfortably.

"The work is beautiful." I hear from my rear. I ignore it waiting for her reaction to him. "I especially appreciate the detail to your capturing her, essence."

"Huh?" I turn to see one of the biggest art buyers from the west coast. Harry DeVoe. Harry DeVoe, is based in the west coast, but is beyond, well known internationally. He is known for having an eye for nude photography, tasteful, and eccentric nude photography. He's an Art buyer, but has more interest in the subject or model than the photographer. Surprisingly, he's here, and Bonnie's photos aren't entirely nude. No, body parts in these pictures. So, why is he here? "Oh, sorry. I just... yes. Thank you. I have a really good eye for photographing this woman."

"Yes. It's apparent. She a model?"

"Umm, no. She's not, actually."

"What does she do for a living?"

"She is actually, a dancer."

"Of course. Her body language, says it all. She's so graceful, naturally."

"Yes, she's is naturally graceful." I'm in a daze trying to pay attention to him and Bonnie and Lorenzo.

"I'm interested in your work." I snap out of it, and back at DeVoe.

"Excuse me?"

"I'd like to look at more work of her. But from your eye. I want to set up a meeting with you. I'll have my assistant, get ahold of you."

I'm stunned, awestruck. "Wow. Okay. Yeah, sure."

"Okay, I'm going to continue to admire the work. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you, so much Mr. DeVoe." We shakes hands, and one positive thing so far, has come out of this night.

He nodded his head, and turn to see Bonnie and she's still with him, tossing a drink in his face. She walks away from him, and then a guy with blonde hair, walks out to her, an hugs her. They talk for a minute. Seems he's comforting her. He walks her back in. The two of them continue looking around and then she starts seeing more and more pictures of her, that she didn't pose for. Cooking, reading, sleeping, crying, playing with Zozo. But one, takes her by surprise. It's on a large wall, being projected. The lights go out, and the projected image, turns to a video. A collage of images. Then, a spoken word plays over in the audio.

Words, I'm not good at face to face. And words I re-recorded a hundred times before they were perfect enough to use in the final sample. Lights lower, traditional sound of old projector film fills the room, and my voice, agonizing me over the loud speaker, making me want to run away, and never look back. For this judgement, is one I've never had to deal with. The sound of my voice, over an entire crowd of silent patrons.

 **Her light, abundantly fills the darkness.**

 **Fragments of my guilt in the sweat of her skin.**

 **Damp and dirty, are the seeds of broken promises.**

 **She's all in this world that ever made sense**

 **Heavy is the burden that rest in the pain of greed**

 **Her eyes trigger me into a desperate place of need**

 **Softness, is her skin when I'm lost in my selfishness**

 **Sweet simplicity, bombarding my sheltered loneliness**

 **Hardly real, the feel when her heart beat against mine**

 **A lifeline, in the dead silence of my oxygens time**

 **A prisoner of my words, unescaping my heart chambers**

 **Contaminating feelings, of our last encounter, I savor**

 **There's is nothing abundant without her existence**

 **Living is the life, that watered the soul, after the first kiss**

 **But alas, the sky fades into the water, where darkness meets the sea**

 **I'm swimming naked in her her ocean, loving her, as she loves me**

I knew Bonnie loved poetry. Poetry was dance in the art form of words. Maybe this poem wasn't very good. But, the words hold value, that I know she needs to hear. I watch her as every word is spoken, she sipped her glass quickly, and grabbed another. The blonde man next to her whispered into her ear, but she wasn't listening. She downed the second glass of champagne. Maybe the crowd appreciated the way in which I ended my exhibit. I don't know, and I don't care. All I care, is if my message was loud and clear.

To the untrained ear it was gibberish, and words, that made no sense. But I know, Bonnie understood every single word of it. She knew word for word what was there. Somewhere in my haze, I hear clapping and people are cheering. But, all I see is her, down the glass of champagne, grab her date, and leave, suddenly. She is affected I know she is. I feel it, I see it. I need to talk to her.

I stand for seconds telling myself what to do. Run after her, go get her, don't let her leave again. I give someone my drink, and I head towards her. I try to get to Bonnie before she leaves. I stumble through people congratulating me, and trying to stop me for pictures. I politely take a few and decline the rest, asking for a minute or two. I walk, but I'm being tugged at. The tail end of a long flowy emerald skirt, is dragging behind, as I try to follow it, and I continue walking and pushing through, even when I see her make it outside. "Bonnie?" I called.

She keeps walking. The crowd is loud, drunk and excited, and I'm pulled again. This time by Elena.

"Damon, that was-"

"Not now." I move her out of my way and finally make it to the door. She's outside waiting, I guess he went to get the car. Whoever he was.

It's me, standing with few people nearby talking amongst themselves. Then her, waiting along the curb. She's so fucking breathtaking. I study her face. She seems fine. She's not bothered, angry, or hurt.

"Bonnie?"

She turns casually, like my voice did nothing for her. When she looks at me, I want to kiss her. Even if she seems unaffected by me now. "Damon."

"Uhh, I was hoping to talk to you, before you left."

"About what?"

"Uhh, the exhibit. Did you like it?"

"It was nice. Thank you." That's it. She's so cold right now. So distant. How can she... I mean I get it but why? It's not her. A car pulls up next to her, and a guy gets out, and walks around to her, opens the door, and helps her in. As she leaning to sit in the car, she looks at me and says. "See ya around." Then she gets in the car, and he closes the door, smiles at me, and walks around to his side, gets in and leaves.

I stand dumb-founded for a while. I didn't want to go back in the party. But I had to for professional reasons. She was no longer affected by me. She was completely over me, and she'd moved on.

This, was my last attempt, and I was sure, she'd at least acknowledge it. Even if she didn't feel the same, knowing she'd acknowledged my feelings, would've meant something. Or that I meant something at one point. I get back in the gallery event, and surprisingly set up a few decent business meetings. Which, if handled right can set me up financially for a few years, if I decide to take some time off work to go find myself for a while, after Bonnie's cold shoulder tonight.

I don't think I can stay in that beach house next to her, and never feel her skin against mine again. Never hear her words, or see her face. Never being able to feel heart beat against mine, or look into those emerald eyes, I can never rest, knowing someone else gets those things, instead of me.

The party was lonely.

I drank.

And drank, until I could laugh again.

But those jokes still weren't funny. But I was drunk enough to fake it. Drunk enough to go back to the old me, and partake in the fake socialization, while random women came up to me, trying to get me to take them home. Lorenzo was approaching me. This is going to get really bad. I stand there, ready to lose everything, and knock him out.

"You know, it's funny. I've seen you at these stuffy events before. Didn't know who you were, back then." He says. I sip my champagne and just look beyond him. "To know, we've slept with the same women, unknowingly, we may have been better friends in another life." He smirked.

"I couldn't be friends with a man who hits women, or tries to rape the celibacy out of them."

"You say that, but you don't know Bonnie. She likes crazy sex. Angry sex. Role playing."

"You weren't playing around." And he continues to talk, and all I want to do is put my hand down his throats and pull out his esophagus. But, I can't. "I'm really not at liberty talk to you. There's a matter of a police report you filed on me."

"Stepping in on another man's territory. Not wise." He said. What is he a Rottweiler? She's not his territory. I'm ignoring him to avoid confrontation. "Well, you should know something about Bonnie. She is a dreamer. She wants things from other humans that is unattainable. Thanks to her therapist. She went from not caring about anything, to carrying too much. Those, beautiful words of yours, was proof, how she can take what she wants from you, and leave you feeling empty. Spoiled little cunt." It takes everything out of me, not to break this glass and cut his face. But I need to make sure he leaves here affected by me in a different way.

"Does Elena know that disgusting bastard you are?"

"Elena's loves it. Who do you think I was with, when Bonnie decided to be celibate? She loved the thrill of fucking me after I was with Bonnie, or before I saw her. Bonnie had never met Elena before, but... she knew there was someone."

"Why are you here?"

"Had I known about you, I wouldn't be here. Unlike you, I know how to keep these women in their place." He tried walking away from me, but not before I called out to him.

"Is that what happened with Bonnie? You found out, someone came in a swooped her away from you. Someone gave her what she needed, and she was able to look at you, and not think about fucking you. Even though, she was addicted to sex? Were you so mad, that my mere words exchanged with her, were enough to make her, not want to even touch you anymore? Or the month you spent time with her again, she was thinking about me, every time. I could be one sick fuck, and tell you the way it all went down, when it finally happened. Oh god. I could really tell you every detail, but I'll leave you with this, because I respect Bonnie too much." His mouth turned up in a smirk, and he held an empty champagne glass. "There's women in this world, and there's girls. Then there's Bonnie. She can turn a boy into a man, and a man into a boy. That's the power she has. Now, one of those, she did for me, and the other, she did for you. I'll let you take a guess at who became a man, because of her, and who reverted back to being a boy."

He stood there silently for seconds before he got it. Elena walked up, having seen him with me. "Enzo, you okay?"

"You should leave Elena, and take Bonnie's sloppy seconds with you. He has a restraining order against me." She looked between us. "Oh you didn't know about that, why don't you ask him why." I walked away and left those two misery invoked people with their mouths open. They can have each other. Such a waste of time.

 **oOo**

Tonight was rough. Rewarding professionally but rough. I head home in my car, and everything inside of me wants to explode. I want to lose it. I never get to lose it. Dozens of women wanted to come home with me tonight. It felt awful. It felt dirty. Their need for my casual desires, which would end in one night of sex, and me never contacting them again. Yeah, it felt dirty, to remember, that a year ago, this was okay with me. That up until just eight months ago, I was living this way.

My hands are on fire on the steering wheel as I get to my house. I drove around for maybe two hours, trying to figure out why. Why she couldn't have a response to me? Why she shut me out? Why she wouldn't just, give me an inch? I gave her a lot in that poem.

Lesson learned, right? "Fuuuuuuuuck!" I scream in my car, sitting in the driveway of my lonely house. I guess I should get a dog, and name it Bonnie. So I can ask why? I laugh at myself, because I'm angry and over emotional. I need a glass of Bourbon. I get out of my car, alone. She should've been on my arm tonight. Fuck... I wanna cry, I can feel it. But I won't let it happen.

Who am I kidding. I cried in my car. Not for long, maybe ten minutes. But enough to know, I felt something. I felt pain, hurt, and rejection. And somehow, it was because I didn't want to be without her. I get to the top of my stairs, and open the door. I walk into this dark lonely house, straight for my Bourbon. It's not there. "The fuck?" I call out. "So, now I have to be angry, and I can't soothe it? Tonight's not my night." I laugh out loud. But it wasn't funny. It was far from funny. "Everything in the world, right here. Success, a home on the beach, money in the bank, the world to give, and no one to give it to." I walk around in circles. Fuck it. I head down to the cellar. Wine will do. It will have to do. I want to drown myself in everything and get lost, in feeling sorry for myself. Pathetic? I know. Let me be pathetic tonight . I head down to the cellar, and look around for what will do the trick today. Oh why not go with the heavy hitter.

Merlot.

I grab the bottle and walk upstairs, and just as I'm walking up, I hallucinated the emerald dress, blowing in the wind that was coming in my patio door. I shake my head, I know I'm not nearly drunk enough. The champagne has worn off, and I'm just holding an unopened bottle of Merlot. I opened it, and stare longer. This image just eludes me. I took the bottle to the head and drank about a quarter of it, like a mad man. This image is still here. It's not real, is it?

Then that sound tickles my ears, and I put the bottle down, when she spoke. "Who do you think you are?" Her body faced the ocean, and her back was to me. I just stood there, put my head down. "I work so hard, to optimistically love. I do. I try to see the best in people. But who, the hell do you think you are?" She finally turns towards me.

"Bonnie, how long have you been here?"

"Long enough to have a a couple of glasses of bourbon, waiting for you. I'm not even supposed to be drinking before my show. It'll bloat me. Damnit." I looked at her, longingly. Pathetically, longingly. It forced her to turn away again. "I sat on the back porch, in case you brought a woman back. That way I wouldn't distract you, and could leave before you saw me."

"That's what you think of me?"

"I mean, I was kind of cold towards you, and I assumed you'd just, drown yourself in forgetting I existed. I thought another warm body would do the trick." She had been crying before I got here.

"You were cold. You shut me out, and gave me nothing, but basic ass words! I yelled.

"It sucks, right? Doesn't it hurt, to feel pushed out?" She crossed her arms, and looked at me, like a jack ass.

"Yeah. It felt horrible. I walked around the gallery for a couple more hours, feeling like an unworthy piece of shit." She nodded her head, like she agreed.

"You should understand, I'd never want you to feel the way I made you feel tonight. But you have some nerve, Damon. I was there with a date tonight. You never said anything about a poem, and having taken pictures of me after we... made love. Lying naked in your bed. That was so... so... fucking personal. A moment shared between the two of us, and you let everyone see me in your bed, asleep."

"It was art."

"It was personal. It was special." She cried. "It was the last beautiful thing I had left of you, before you ruined us."

"I'm not perfect Bonnie and that image of you in my bed, after we made love was the most beautiful photograph I've ever taken. Because, it truly was candid. It was really raw. And you were covered in my sheets. Your hair was thrown on the pillow above your head. The side of your breast was the the most of your body they saw. You were laying stomach down, so it was just the fat of your breast. Your legs were tangled in my sheets, and you still loved me. That was the last moments you loved me."

She was shaking her head, in disbelief. "You reminded me, that you constantly took from me. That picture, you took a moment and displayed it."

"Is this about the picture?"

"What else would it be about?"

"I don't know, anything but the fucking picture! I gave you the opportunity to see what would be on display. Apparently being around me makes your skin crawl now, so you said, you'd trust my judgement."

"I'm leaving, okay. I came to tell you that I'm selling the house." She tried to storm off, dramatically, but my heart sank in my chest. How did I screw up that bad. I couldn't let her leave. I stopped her.

"What? No. You love that house."

"Damon, I can't live next door to you. These feelings won't go away, and-"

"I'll sell my house, Bonnie. Don't sell your dream house."

"Childhood fantasy. I can't afford the payments if I can't keep a steady gig. It was nice while it lasted." I couldn't feel the muscles in my face anymore. She was losing her home. "I can stay there for another couple months. But it's for the best." She turned to leave. She was walking out of my life forever. I'll be got damned. She not going anywhere. I speak up, like a desperate man.

 **"Her light, abundantly fills the darkness.**

 **Fragments of my guilt in the sweat of her skin."**

"Damon stop, please. Don't do that." She stopped walking, and stood there, with her back facing me. And I kept reciting the words, because she needed to hear them face to face. She had to know, what it meant to me, from my own mouth.

 **"Damp and dirty, are the seeds of broken promises.**

 **She's all in this world that ever made sense."**

And even though she shakes her head for me to stop, I keep going. And she starts to cry all over again. But inside, of me, I'm shaking. I'm scared. I'm dying, because I just want her to understand, how sorry I am, and how much she means to me.

 **"Heavy is the burden that rest in the pain of greed.**

 **Her eyes trigger me into a desperate place of need.**

 **Softness, is her skin when I'm lost in my selfishness.**

 **Sweet simplicity, bombarding my sheltered loneliness."**

I walk towards her, hoping she'll understand I'm human, and I make mistakes too. She still couldn't face me, because it was to painful. "Damon, don't come closer. Don't, take me back to that place. Don't make me remember everything, and want you again." I hold her body from behind and continue in her ear.

 **"Hardly real, the feel when her heart beats against mine.**

 **A lifeline, in the dead silence of my oxygens time.**

 **A prisoner of my words, unescaping my heart chambers.**

 **Contaminated with feelings, of our last encounter, I savor."**

Her tears falling onto my hands, so, I turn her towards me, as I draw the conclusion.

 **"There's is nothing abundant without her existence.**

 **Living is the life, that watered the soul, after the first kiss.**

 **But alas, the sky fades into the water, where darkness meets the sea.**

 **I'm swimming naked in her ocean, loving her, as she loves me."**

Bonnie covered her face, and moved away from me. But I moved closer again. I'm not letting her leave me. I'm simply not going to allow it. "It's beautiful, Damon."

"Every word, I wrote for you."

"I know. Why are you doing this, Damon?"

"Because, Bonnie. I can't, be without you. I won't. I thought, if we made love I'd ruin you. And in some way, I think I did. But, I didn't want to." My hands starts to shake. My palms are sweaty. Because I'm about to speak, from my heart, and hopefully not sound stupid. "Then you told me, you'd ruin me, by making me never want to be without you again. And you were right. Bon, you ruined me. I'll admit it. Other women, aren't on my radar. None. Everyday, I replay moments we've spent, because it's the closest thing I have to having you."

She looks at me, and dries her eyes the best she can. "I'm sorry."

"Stop. You have no reason to be." I know I don't have time to give her everything I kept inside for the past eight months of getting to know her. but I have to try to give her something, about who I was before her. I took a deep breath, and rubbed my forehead, then I began to speak. "My parents are from the south. They have traditionalist views. Me going to college out of state to become a photographer, and not play football angered my dad. He doesn't agree with my line of work. And my mother has always favored my brother, because he's the baby. Who by the way went off to college to play football, and then went back to my hometown to coach high school football. He married his high school sweetheart, and they have kids. He kisses their ass, and lives his life in my father's shadow, and I stepped out of my father's shadow. They are relatively wealthy, ranchers. My brother was easily influenced by a girl years ago, she talked him into doing some really stupid things. I saw her ruining his life, and so, I tried to tell him. He couldn't handle it. We got into a fight. I fucked up, and got back at him by fucking her. Mainly, so he could she who she really was, but he never fully forgave me. We are cordial but don't typically get along. I moved to California, to get away from my family, because back there, I was not living to my best potential, and it was getting me into trouble. I got into a lot of trouble when I was younger. I was reckless and selfish."

I start to remove my jacket and begin unbuttoning the sleeves of my dress shirt, and she just stands there listening. She's, quietly, and patiently listening. She clears her throat, and nervously grabs her elbow with her other hand. I grab the bottle of merlot, along with two glasses. I pour them, and hand her one. She takes it, and still stands off to the side. "I would like it, if you could sit." I speak with a strong, tone, and no facials. She slowly walks to my black leather couch, in my white living room, and sits.

"When I moved to California, I met a woman, and fell in love. She was the first person, I clung to when I got here. She was beautiful, and edgy. The opposite of where I was from. I was drawn to this difference. I did whatever she wanted. She was older than me. And I believed in everything she said to me. But, I was like an experiment for her. Ya know? Turning the country boy into some pathetic puppy. She introduced me to a life of opportunity. But, she was married. I was a funny project, because her husband treated her like shit. I had no idea she was married, by the way. I thought it was just me and her. But, I was just her go-to, when her husband wasn't acting right. I'd get the courage to leave, when I got suspicions of her cheating, and she'd seduce me. She'd make love to me, and tell me she loved me while making love to me."

"Is that why you were uncomfortable, when I did that."

"I wasn't uncomfortable when you did it. I was scared. Because I believed in her. Like I believe in you, and I didn't want us to be like that. So, when it came to her, I let it go for two or three months. Then she'd treat me like shit, when I started to ask questions. She'd beat me with her words. And I mean, she'd beat me down, verbally. Worthless, pathetic, sad little country boy, needy, stupid, dumb, etc. she beat me down, when I tried to leave, or ask questions. I'd feel like shit, I felt low. I felt, like no one, without her. Because I was in this place, alone. I mean I'd been here maybe five years before she and I dated. We hung out a couple of those years off and on. I didn't know she was married, because it was a social thing at first. But, when we started dating it was before I graduated college, so she was my everything. My lover, girlfriend, best friend, everything. She even talked me into the fucking tat. But, eventually, I knew I had to make moves. I finally started getting a voice, and doing my own thing. She took notice and that's when she started using sex a weapon with me. And she did anything, I mean anything to get me to stay."

I lowered my head in disgust and embarrassment. Bonnie moved closer to me, and put her hand on my thigh. She rubbed my leg softly, feeling my pain.

"She would follow me from place to place. Trying to see who I was with, and where I was. I wasn't cheating, okay? I was networking, and focusing on my career. But, she became really jealous. And one day, she just said, she was pregnant. I was so fucked. Because I was finally getting away from her, slowly. Making my way in life, feeling better about myself. But, me being from the south, I knew I couldn't leave her hanging. I'd be there for my child no matter what. She was about three months pregnant. She said, she wanted to get married. I thought, she's fucking crazy. But, I was young, and she got in my head, and I did it. We went to the courthouse, and did it. She moved in with me, in my tiny apartment. She complained all the time. I had no idea why she stayed. Then after maybe three weeks some man came looking for her. He said he was her husband. I knew it couldn't be true. But it was. And I told him, she's pregnant. He wanted to beat my ass. I would've fought him for her, but, somehow... I think he felt sorry for me, realizing I was a kid. He said he'd pay for the paternity test. And if I was the father, he'd walk away. But if he was the father, he was going to take care of his child. Eventually she miscarried. We'll never know the truth. I never fucked another woman without a condom again. Until you and I made love. We got he marriage annulled. Technically, we had to, because she was legally married to someone else. My ex ghosted on me, and she was all I had, because at that point, I wasn't very far in my career yet. So, getting over the whole thing was a long mental struggle. She was verbally abusive, sexually abusive. Sounds weird, because she didn't rape me, but, she used sex as a tool to control me. I was left with lingering insecurities because of her."

Bonnie put her arms around me and hugged me. "Oh god, Damon. What an awful person. How could she, just...? You didn't deserve that type of abuse."

"That's why, when she called me for lunch I couldn't tell you Bonnie. I never talk about her. What would you have even thought? Ya know? And...At that point I hadn't seen her in ten years."

"I would've understood, Damon. You didn't give me a chance."

"Maybe because if you told me, you were meeting an ex, I wouldn't understand it. I would hate it. And in my mind, I only went, because my therapist says I needed closure."

"Did you get closure?"

"I mean, I got an apology. She said she's gotten help after all these years. She realized she treated me wrong, and I was the only person who treated her right, after all these years. We got caught up in a moment, and she kissed me, and I didn't stop her, because I'm an idiot and imperfect to a fault."

"What did you feel when you saw her?"

"Nothing."

"Be honest Damon. I've been there."

I didn't want to express the truth, because I knew it would hurt Bonnie. But, if she wants the truth, I'll say it, no matter how fucking hard it is to face. "Uh, there's was old lingering feelings. Sexually." I saw her face drop, and she looked away. "I didn't want to feel those things on purpose."

"It's okay, Damon. It's normal. When I saw Lorenzo after months, I still had feelings. And there's no telling what would happen, if I ever had to face Elijah. Elijah was to me, what Rose was to you. And Lorenzo is my Elena. I guess. So, don't feel bad. Just be honest with me. Even if you think it'll hurt me."

"Well, when we were saying goodbye, I walked her to her car, to be a gentleman. That's when we hugged, and kissed, and it just... got a little out of control."

"How, out of control?"

"Just, kissed. But out of control to me, because I swore, I'd never let her have that part of me again." I know, it affected Bonnie, hearing my emission. "So, when we stopped, I just said, bye. And I didn't want to hurt her, so I just, didn't contact her again. All I could think about was you during that time she and I spent together for lunch. And for two weeks I agonized. My stomach turned in knots trying to tell you, and being unable to."

"Wow. Damon, why couldn't you just tell me? I've never judged you, or made you feel bad about your decisions."

"Because I'd rather, deal with the stress of not telling you, than to see your face, when I hurt you." She grabbed my hand.

"The tattoo... will always be that reminder, I guess."

"Yeah, I uh... about that." I started removing my shirt. "I started the process of removing it. She made me get it, and it was fucking painful."

"Why remove it? Why not just cover it?"

"I didn't know what to cover it with. Besides, I want this removed, because I never wanted the tattoo." She moved her fingers over the skin slightly. It was tender. "Ouch."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Two more sessions. Luckily it's not that big." Her small fingers draw my goosebumps, to the surface and I get a tingle inside. She bit that lip again, and I look up at her face, as she studies my scar tissue. Then she catches me looking at her, and she stops. I grab her fingers with mine. Then I grab her cheek with my other hand. I look her in the eyes, and this is the hardest moment of my life, right now in these seconds. Which felt like minutes. Which felt like hours. "Bonnie..." oh fuck, lip don't shake. Lip stop shaking. She's a woman. A person like me. Why am I so nervous?

"Yes, Damon." The soft skin of her cheeks, pulls the words out of me, as her green eyes, suck the soul from my body.

"I met you on May tenth, Bon Bon. And since that day, it's like, we've been in our own world. You pulled me into this world, and you held my hand, and we built this private existence, together. You... you are an entire world, I want to explore. I never want to stop exploring you." I pull her fingers up and kiss the back of her hand, while my eyes water, slightly. "I don't live, when you're not here. I mean, I exist, subtly, because I'm a bunch of particles and mass, allowed to float in the world for now, but that's it. When you are here, I live. Life, is speculation, and wonder with you... and I want to explore it. I want to be better everyday, and I want to be better at being who you need. And the only reason, I know that, is because I am lost, in love with you, Bonnie." I see her lips begin to tremble, and I try to calm her with my attempted ease, as I tell her how I feel. "And I will do, what it takes, to show you everyday, how much you mean to me, and how much, I appreciate you. Because you, are my best friend. You are everything, to me, Bonnie. And my life, means something, when you're in it."

Her eyes watered, and this is a pattern for me and her. I wipe her eyes, and she closes them. "I'm speechless." She can't even look at me. "Damon, I never imagined, hearing those words-"

"Look at me." She hesitates. "Bon Bon, please, open your eyes and look at me."

"I'm trying, but it's, hard, right now."

"It's hard for me too. But, I pay my therapist, lots of money, so that I could eventually say these things out loud. So, let me give you, as much of my truth as I can, looking you, in your eyes." She fluttered those tears drop filled eyes, open, for me. And she was very raw, right now.

She looks at me slowly. "Bonnie, I have one more thing to tell you. And, I don't want you to be angry, because I need you to understand why I couldn't tell you." Her eyes became worried, and she fought wanting to close them. "Bonnie, I am a sex addict. I moved my way through tons of women. It sounds bad, because it is." Her face takes pause, and she looks directly at me, surprised.

"A sex addict, like me? What, why couldn't you just-"

"Listen, you telling me what you are, was like music to my ears. Finally. Someone understood me. But, you were different. You have slept with three men. You had lots of sex with three men. I had hundreds of one-night stands. Hundreds. I am ashamed of how casually I treated my addiction, for years. But I am a sex addict. I became celibate for you." I become as honest as I can in these moments. "I went through agony, from the day I met you till the day we made love. Everything about wanting you and not being able to have you was like fire to my skin. But after a while, the burn eased, because... you were this... slow, rain... just, calming me. And when you weren't in my presence, everything burned again. But the moment you were in my sight, you were that slow, cool rain. Raining on me, this beautiful storm, putting out this wild fire. And I stopped having sex with other women, because I was willing to give it up, for you. And I did. And that night, when we, and you... God, it felt like I was born again. A new man. We connected, and you... accepted everything I had. The good, the bad, and the ugly in those moments of us making love. And after that night, I could never see myself touching another woman."

"I had no idea. So, all those nights we hung out, or kissed, you were tortured and pained like me. You were fighting a battle, on the inside?" I nodded my head yes. She felt something, that made her stand up. "Wow, Damon, this is shocking."

"I know, but... I'd be willing to be that again for you. If that's what you want." She shook her head, and all I can imagine is, what if she's not celibate, and she's had sex with this new guy. I stood up and look her eye to eye. "Are you and this new guy... having sex?"

"No, we aren't."

"I'll wait for you, Bon. If you want no sex, I can do that. But I want you Bonnie. I want you."

"Damon, it's a lot right now."

"For who?"

"Me, and you. Two sex addicts, trying to be better."

"We are better. I know we are. And we are better, when we are together. Because we aren't using each other."

"Aren't we though?"

"No, Bon, baby... you fulfill me. And I know, I fulfill you. I can feel it in your glances. Your touches. Your kisses, and hugs. You said we were soulmates."

"We are. Damon, you are... so unexpected, and you're scaring me, right now."

"I will wait, as long as you want."

"I should leave, Damon. Zozo, is home alone." She walked towards the door, and opened it, leaving. I just stood there, speechless. She walked out of the house, and left.

"I headed to the bedroom, and I had to feel content. I told her how I felt. I left it up to her. I grab the glass of merlot that I didn't drink. And drank it. Then I grabbed the glass that she didn't drink, and I drank it. I wait for twenty minutes, in my living room, hoping she'd come back. And she didn't. I know, I don't want to be without her, but I also don't want to push her.

 **oOo**

I left her alone. For days... I gave her space, and I didn't invade her privacy. I slept alone and didn't take calls, that weren't of importance. I went to the studio a few times, and had my meeting with Harry DeVoe. I made the deal of a lifetime, and I wanted to tell no one, other than her. I wanted to celebrate, and explain her to her, how my success was her success, because she was half that project. It wasn't about all of the money, but about what happens when she and I come together. But I just went home, and brought my two favorite portraits of her, back with me. The one of her, after we made love. It's in my bedroom, hanging above my bed. The one of her sitting on her front porch stairs, it's in my living room, hanging on the wall. My muse. My beautiful, best friend.

Now I see her every day in these images. And that feeling, is going to get me over, for now.

 **...**

So, after four days, of torture, I'm in my room one night, getting ready to take a shower. As I got undressed, and before I could formulate a thought, I looked outside and she was standing there, in a towel. It's the middle of Winter. Is she fucking crazy? No. she was serious. She was waiting for me, I think.

I got undressed and grabbed a towel. I headed to the beach and walked out towards her, and stood before her. "It's been a while."

"Yeah."

"You ready to let it all go?"

"It is the middle of January, are we crazy?"

"Yes. We are. But, we are doing this together. So, I trust to take this journey with you. I'm trusting you." She looked in my eyes, and I felt like a fucking King. "And I'm ready if you are, Damon." And just like that, her words, were my drug.

"I'm more than ready." And I could feel, that for her this was symbolic. I dropped my towel as she did. And for the first time, we looked at each other's bodies. "You're breathtaking."

"So are you. Even with that large, bandage on your ribcage." She smiled, looking at my battle scars. "Come on." She held my hand and we walked out to the ocean, we walked out to both the black sky and sea. Slowly, leaving a trail of foot prints, in the sand, heading out to the water, until the icy cold feeling hit our toes. We were both afraid. It was new to us. We were both, starting this new chapter in our lives together.

Slowly, but surely, water is creeping up our legs, and into places, that force us to laugh. We usually ran, but today there was no rush. We walked. Because we walked together, and taking this slowly, was what we needed. "Oh gosh, this sucks when you do it slowly, doesn't it?" She giggles, feeling the water hit the highest portion of her thighs, and touch her womanhood.

"Yeah, it does. But, I'll move slow for you as long as you don't look at my dick while it's freezing cold." I made her laugh. As we walked out, further, the water was at just below her breast, and basically at my waist. She turned to me and grabbed me, because it was freezing cold. "You're such a baby."

"I know. When I move slow, I'm hesitant." She looked up at me, something about that moment, took us both by surprise. My lips gravitated towards her and she didn't stop me, as I kissed her softly. I held her tight, then pulled out of the kiss. We looked up, and saw a plethora of stars, surrounding the moon, in the large open sky. It was astonishing, how, we take these natural things for granted. How much larger the world is, than us or our problems. Trivial pursuits, for the trivially aloof.

She and I are **_here and now_** , being true to what we want.

She's taught me how to ** _, Know thyself_**.

I feel strong with her next to me. She looked me in the eyes.

"You ready?" She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I could feel her shaking due to the cold.

"Oh, god, yes." I squeezed her body, and took us both under the still water. When we came back up, it was like breathing for the first time. We held each other and laughed. She held me tight, and her legs wrapped around my waist even tighter. "Oh my god, we did it. Together!" She looked so happy. I love this smile.

"We did it. It's fucking cold, in the middle of Winter, but we did it, together, Bon."

"Winter in California, Damon?" She laughed.

"Still, cold as fuck in the water, Bonnie." We held each other shivering, laughing, and anxious. As the funny moment died down, another moment was brought to life. We felt each other's naked bodies, and something about the water and our skin, and the moment took on its own direction. It started with a kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and her legs around my waist. My arms held her back, and I felt myself wake up to the feel of her body.

Her kisses were tender, and the moment she felt me poking her, she accommodated me, without hesitation. Her hips moved up, and then she let me glide her down my shaft, carefully. Her pussy felt the exact same, and I was gonna make the inside of her shape to me. We both get a second chance and I know, her body was made for mine. Slowly, I stroked her in that cold water as we made the water heat up around us. The movements between us, felt so breathlessly sinful, inside of that water. And the symbolism was us washing away all of the old, and accepting the new. Maybe this is why she was able to allow this to happen between us right now.

Her body is accepting me, and pulling me into her possessively. I used my hands and spread her just a little, and pounded myself into her, so I could get deeper. The cold water, and the heat between us, made the moment so intense. Her hair covered the right side of her face, and she spoke in deep breaths, into my face as our wet skin connected "You feel so good." Her breaths, turned to moans. Her hand held my cheek, and her eyes were penetrating mine, while I let my dick feed on her insides. I changed positions of my hands. One holding underneath her, and the other wrapped around and holding her back, and the back of her head. Water dripped between the crevices of our connected lips, and I felt her tongue, wrapped around mine, and we were tender. Really tender. While the water, forced our skin to continue accommodating this gliding motion of fluidity between us.

We were making love, tenderly. Passionately. Slowly. The sky was our silence, the ocean was our voice.

Suddenly, she started working her own hips. She pulled up, held my shoulders, and looked at me in the eyes, while she was grinding into me. I'm weak. I'm weak, feeling her control me. Her head falls back, and she's moaning, and yelling, because no one can hear us. "Yessss. Yessss. Oh baby, you feel good." I watch her breast, and fully erect nipples, and grab her waist. I watch us, connecting. I look down, and can see where we connect. Watching myself slide in and out of her while she belly-dances into my body. Fuck we look like eternity.

"Look, Bonnie. Look at us." She looks at me, then down at us. She watched herself roll on my dick, and we both look at one another. "We look beautiful."

Bonnie nods her head agreeing, "MmHmm." She's hardly able to talk, trying to catch her breath. The dark water surrounds us, and all we are is the energy of the universe. And all we hear, is our sounds, along with slight sounds of waves crashing in the distance. Her breathing was getting heavier. I pressed her stomach against mine, and her chest against mine, looked her in the eyes. "Relax. I got this." I prompted her to stop moving. I grab her from behind, and gently rock her up and down. I'm sliding inside of her effortlessly, and making her feel me in my entirety, and this position is also making my shaft stimulate her clit. She starts to shutter. I hold her tighter. We feel each others heartbeat, we feel each other's breathing, we take each other's breaths. But I decided to swallow hers. Now ever single part of her is against every single part of me, and she's emotional.

Have you ever felt someone's stomach, when they breath against you, while making love? Our stomached pressed together, and I feel everything inside of her, not just sexually, but spiritually. And now, I see what Bonnie meant, by connecting to someone on this deeper level. I see why she became an addict in this way. This is addicting. Feeling her emotions, her body, he heart, her breathing, her thoughts, her muscle tension, and relaxation, her control, my control, the way we speak without speaking... of course, I can become addicted to this feeling. I already am addicted to this. It's everything. She's everything, and I want all of her like this, forever.

Our kissing never takes a back seat.

Her emotions are running down her cheeks, and I taste them in our kiss. I pull my lips off hers and move to her ear, while I penetrate the depth of this woman's shallow, body, and make her feel like she was made for me. I hold her tight, and tell her without fear, for the first time since the poem, and for the first time, in plain words, "I love you. I love you. I fucking love you." I repeat, emotionally. I know the words resonate fiercely inside of her. Her tears are raw, and unstoppable, and I kiss them away. Then look her in the eyes, "I love you. All of you. I love you so much. You're everything, I need, Bon. My everything." Her stomach is pressed to mine, she's breathing heavy, and I feel it tighten. She wraps her arms behind my neck, and her hands clasp the back of my head. Her nose is pressed to mine, and she starts to moan again. I need her words. I need to hear her words, because right now, this is the most intimate, I've ever been, and I'm ready to melt inside of her. Then she speaks, and breathing again.

"Oh yes. God yes. Your so deep. Don't stop, Damon please. Make love to me."

"Do I feel good inside of you?"

"Yes." She shutters.

"Do you love me?"

"I do. Oh, I love you so much." Her lips speak, against my lips, and it drives me crazy.

I begin fucking her deeper, and faster. She tries to fight the feeling but I clutch her inside of my grips. And when all the muscles in her body tense up, it sends the cue to mine. And she clenches my dick muscle, with her strong pussy muscles, and I almost grind my jaw, in excitement, squeezing her to death. "Bonnie, I'm about to cum inside of you."

"Yes... me too. Please, fill me up, give me everything, I want all of you. Damon. Everything." She looked me in the eye and that was the final draw, as her pussy squeezed me, I couldn't hold back anymore. We both began letting it all go at the same time.

"Ahh ahh, fuck." Parts of my body jolts further into her body. "Oh god, baby, your pussy feels so... fuuuuuuuuckk. Haaaa haaaa... fuuuuck. Fuck. Oh my God Bonnie..."

"Ahhh, yesss. Yesss, please... oh my God, Damonnnnn. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Goooooddddd." She cries after her orgasm. And her body twitches a little. And I hold her through it, because her orgasm is longer than mine. And that has become one of my favorite things about her. She takes her deep breaths, until she calms.

We hold each other for minutes of silence. Just exhausting the last of our breaths, into the atmosphere, of our heated session. After a few minutes, I spoke.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded her head yes, but out of breath. "You?"

"I feel like a fucking King."

She smiled, and kissed me. "My king."

And I kissed her back, longer and deeper. "My queen." She bit her lip, and smiled. And those emerald eyes were sparkling in the moon. I kissed her again, and again, and again.

 **...**

We lay in her bed talking about the events of recent weeks. Making love to her for the first time, being able to love on her, openly, was the greatest feeling. I remembered what she said about affording her place, and needed to talk to her about it, before she made an irrational decision to sell. "Bonnie, I don't think you should sell your dream house. Let me help you with your mortgage."

"I may have exaggerated the truth. I'm not in jeopardy of losing this place."

"Why would you say that?"

"I was very serious about leaving, and I didn't want you to talk me into staying."

"What a dramatic way to make a point. I was clearly going to leave my home to keep you happy."

"I know you would've, and that made me realize you care for me. I'm sorry for being dishonest. I just couldn't bare living next to the person I loved, any longer, and watch them be happy without me. I want nothing more than for you to be happy. But, watching you, without me, would've been too hard. I would've left so you could live your life."

"I would've left, so you could be happy."

"We would've each left to keep the other happy."

"Yeah. I would've left. But, I know you'll be the happiest with me."

"Damon?"

"Bon Bon?"

"I have another guilty confession."

"What?"

"The day you tried to tell me about your ex, I had a feeling it was something awful. And I knew it was probably going to end us. I felt it in your energy all that day, and for a week before that. But, selfishly, I needed to have you once before it all ended. I mean, I didn't know it was going to be what it was. I thought you were going to tell me Elena was having your baby, or you got a job in Japan, doing photography or something. So, I had to make love to you once, before our tragic demise. I just..." she sat her body up, wearing only my shirt, and looked at me with tears in her eyes, "We felt too good to be true. Nothing good lasts for me. I wanted your body at least once, because, we felt tragic. I'm ashamed, to tell you, that I purposely made love to you, and selfishly told you I loved you, in hopes you'd be able to reverse the hands of time, to keep from delivering that bad news."

"So, you didn't mean it, when you told me you loved me?"

"No, I meant every word of everything I've ever said to you. I loved you from the day you came to my house, and put yourself out there for me. The day you told me you were willing to know what it meant to fall in love with me, and love me the way I deserved. I loved you since that day, when I told you, we were soulmates. No one had ever done that for me, and I knew that we were more than just words, and expressions, feelings and desires. And Lorenzo knew too. Which is why the blowup happened. I knew I wanted everything you were, and nothing less. You understand? I wanted it all that day. And I let the next six months go buy, just wanting to be honest with you. But being afraid."

I just lay there for a few seconds before sitting up, and looking her in the eye. How astonishing is her emission? "Bonnie?"

"Damon, I knew for a long time what I wanted from you, so things happened the way they did, because I couldn't go from having you everyday, to not having you at all. Which is why I wanted to leave."

"I never want you to leave me. I want you here, every day. I'm happy you were patient for me, and with me, and you making love to me that day, felt like my body was missing you, all these years. I felt like I was dehydrated until we made love."

"I gave you life." She giggled. But it was true.

"Hell yeah. And I'm not letting you sell your dreams. But I don't want to sleep apart every night."

"Well, we can take turns. Although, I'd much rather make love in your room than mine. This did used to be my parent's bedroom, and their marriage didn't end well. The energy shouldn't come into our relationship. Not to mention all the worthless sex, tenants have had here for the past fifteen years. I love this house, but, I didn't realize, that energy could carry over. Lorenzo attacked me here. It's not a house for long relationships. There needs to be a cleansing done. I just haven't had a chance to do it. Rid the house of bad juju. I don't want that for us. But I want this house, we just can't have sex here." She laughed.

"Juju, what are you a witch?"

"I'm a spiritualist, Damon. I'm all about good energy and putting into the universe what you want back."

"So, we can't have sex at my place... I've fucked every kind of woman in my living room."

"Bedroom?"

"No. Surprisingly. Just the living room."

"Oh..."

"Move in with me. We'll pay this place off, and you can turn it into your personal, project."

"What do you mean?"

"A private studio. You teach lessons, and you want to have your own production company?"

"Damon, that's crazy!"

"What, you don't see me in your future?"

"Not that. I'm never letting you go. I'm talking about buying this place and making it a studio. That would take a lot of money, that I do not have laying around."

"It was just a suggestion. We can come up with a million things. We have two beautiful homes. We will figure it out."

"Yeah. Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you too." We look each other in the eyes. And it's undeniable that I'm going to break her perception about having sex in this house. I move her body, against the head board, and make sure her back is right on it, then I crawl between her legs, and put them around my waist. "Damon, stop... not this house."

"Our energy is a hundred times stronger than what you feel here. We're not going to sell this place, so, let's change the energy."

"You know, I can't say no to you."

"Then just, let us, do our magic witchy women."

"Okay..." she gave me a challenging look, "give me what I need."

"Always." I pinned her body between me and the headboard. She didn't argue with me. I forced our connection to over power whatever she once felt there, and I made sure to do this in every room of her house, that week.

 **oOo**

I was outside, playing fetch with Zozo, waiting for Bonnie to come home. A couple weeks had passed, and she was wrapping up her current dance project. The deal I made with DeVoe called for another photo shoot dedicated to Bonnie. She been excited about it for weeks now. So, with her project ending, I can finally start this opportunity with her. And, the first deal for my original works of her, was a hefty pay out. I was able to do something special for her. I don't know how she'll take it, but I hope she understands it's coming from a good place.

I saw her get back to the house. I run up the sand, and head inside when I saw which house she'd enter first. Once again, she came to my house waiting to be greeted by me. I welcome her with open arms, a hug, and the most meaningful lip pecks I'v become accustomed to daily. "Hey baby."

"Hey love. You smell... salty!"

"Yeah, I was playing fetch with Zo and he kept making me chase him to the water."

"Aww, such a good doggy daddy. Thank you baby." She kissed my cheek and stare at me with those eyes of hers, that made me want to rip her clothes off. But, I digress, because her look is giving me "concern" right now.

"Tell me what's bothering you."

"Damon, I just picked up two new private clients. Two full timers. Each requiring ten hours a week of training."

"That's great."

"Yeah, but, I'm running out of studio time. I think I'm going to start, searching for space rental somewhere."

"Why not just do it at your place? Save some money."

"Because, it's not a dance studio. I need a studio."

"What would make it a studio?"

"Ugh, brand new hardwood floors for a room. One ceramic floored room. Wall to wall mirrors. Dance bars. Built in sound system, bright lighting, to name a few. Air conditioning, that'll never be used but is necessary for the end of the day to air out the sweaty perspiration form the full day of dance and musk. Yeah, too much money baby."

"But, would you do that, if you have the opportunity?"

"I mean, sure. That would be amazing. I just, I haven't even spoken to contractors to price that out, and frankly I'm too afraid to hear a quote." She walked me right into the perfect opening.

"Bonnie, here." I handed her a folder with paperwork in it.

"What's this?"

"Open it." I watched her open it, skim over it, and the final page made her blink her eyes several times.

"This is the deed to my house."

"Yeah."

"It says, I own it out right."

"Yeah."

"But, how? I still owed a two hundred thousand dollars on it. How is it paid off?"

"Surprise!"

"Surprise? Damon, what is this?"

"Bonnie, I bought the house for you. Okay. I am sorry, I did this behind your back. I just... talked to your dad, one day, when he came by, and you left us alone for about twenty minutes to walk Zozo. As if I wasn't already nervous about telling him about us. But, I was afraid he was going to call me crazy, and I let him know... I wanted to do this, and that I wasn't gonna tell you, because you'd talk me out of it. And he helped me get it all done." She looked upset. She sat the paper work down, and just stare at me. "Baby, say something. I'm sorry, don't be mad. I promise, it was from a good place. I mean... I made a deal of a lifetime, thanks to you... and now-"

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged tears into my chest, soaking my shirt. She cried so hard, she was just... letting me hold her. "Why?"

"Because, Bon Bon. If I'm going to ever propose to you, I don't need you telling me, You want to focus on your end goals."

"Propose? Damon... stop." She giggled.

"I'm serious. I want you to know I support you and will do anything to help you achieve your goals. I'm giving you no room for disappointment. I'll take care of you. All you have to do is love me, the way you do. And please don't ever stop."

"Of course, I'll never stop. I don't know what to say."

"Say, you'll accept it. You can do whatever you want here. You own it. We can make it a studio, or we can start remodeling. I don't care, I'm here for you're dreams, Bon Bon. I'm here for what you want. I have everything I want, already. You were the only missing piece in my life."

"I'm speechless."

"Are you happy?"

"Beyond words. I don't know how to give you what you've given me."

"You've given me more, already."

 **oOo**

I lay in the bed holding her, right now. A single white rose, at the head board. She sleeps, like she's exhausted. I had no more secrets. All I have, is me. Imperfect, and introverted to a fault. But she brings out everything in me. It's not forced, either. Naturally, Bonnie's energy, draws out mine. When I'm down, she's up, and when she's down I'm up, and we just kind of allow the other to be down for a little bit, but not too long, because we naturally, love to make each other happy. Her hair is thrown in her face, right now. And she lays tucked into my arm. She's slept at our place, for weeks now. For a while, before the remodeling, we were taking turns, every other night. But eventually, she found comfort being at my place at night, which is now our place, because our bedroom has an entire glass wall dedicated to ocean viewing, and she fell in love with falling asleep, staring at the reflection of the moon sifting in the water. Not to mention, we've agreed to renovating her place.

Today we are working on the house. Bonnie's place is being completely remodeled. We are turning it into a dance and photography studio. It was her idea that we both make that a place we can both truly work on our passions. We were inspired by each other, for each other, at this beach, so why not? We work on it every weekend together, and it's been such a learning experience for us both. We laugh, we fight, we cry, we motivate each other. Even through the difficult stages of this. We aren't perfect. This process has taught us a lot about each other. Our arguments and fights don't last too long. We never sleep apart, and she's already redecorated our entire bedroom. To fit us both. My white and black is now, our white black and yellow. Courtesy of her. Zozo, has his own area in our bedroom, designated specifically for him. But, he sleeps with us, most nights. Well, he knows when it's safe to be in the bed, and we he needs to just go to his area, because we "need" the space. But today, he serves a unique purpose, and I think I've trained him really well for weeks now. So, we'll see how my boy does.

She moves, and she has my full attention again.

Her body is getting warm, right now. Every time Bonnie's body gets too warm, she starts waking up. Her body overheats, she begins to move her irritated legs, and kicks the sheets, off. Then after a few minutes, the sheets come off the bottom half of her body, she turns her body away from me, and remains tucked into the side of me. Only her backside faces me. This prompts me to spoon her from behind, which she loves. We do this for twenty minutes before she speaks.

We play the waiting game.

She breaths, and sleeps, and breaths, and lets me hold her.

My mouth finds its way to her shoulder. And I breath into her neck for a few minutes, getting her used to me, and I usually, kiss her at this point. All over. Warming her body up, to my desire for her. Which, is equally matched with her desire for me.

My body decides if I want to be bothered with the sheets or not; most of the time, I don't bother, because I overheat immediately, when my lips touch her skin. I listen to her take a few deep breaths. That's Bonnie, preparing herself for what happens every morning we wake up to each other. And, I decide, if I'm going to make love to her from the front or the back. If she doesn't turn me over, and take over. But, today... not today.

Today, I've decided what I want. I reach for her wrist, and gently use it to turn her all the way onto her stomach. Then I pull her panties off her body. She's okay with this, because she's awake by now, and not stopping me. I use my lips in a devilish way to speak her, into a calm state. "Good morning baby." I whisper. "I know you hear me, and you're not going to speak, today. That's okay." I nibble her ear. "Just let me have my way with you, because, I'm not letting you leave his bed, until I'm full on you." She hums, gently enough to almost not hear, then I crawl over the back of her, and place myself between her legs. I don't need to perch her ass up, because my lady, already knows, how to get ready for her her man. She sticks it out, and wiggles it for me a little. "You little cock tease." I keep whispering in her ear, because it makes her pussy wet.

I'm going to finish explaining our mornings, after I share this side note. We both spoke to our therapists, about each other. Our habitually, hyper-sexually, addictive personalities. We were both spoken to, on a matter of both professional and personal opinion. Professionally, we were told, our addictive behaviors could easily translate to a need and fulfillment, of dependent love. That love, can become something consuming to a point, we develop the inability to want to look outside of each other for anything. That has a high probability, to keep us from choosing to grow from our sexual dependancy. But, on a personal level, our therapists also told us, we quite possibly found in each other, our perfect equal. That we fulfill six of the seven types of love that exist, according to Greek mythology. Agape(soul), Eros(body), Philia(mind), Ludus(friendship), Pragma(everlasting), and the sixth, is Philautia (self-love) which, both therapists have said, we help each other, to discover the deep self-love we didn't once understand. The only type of love we can't fulfill, which is the seventh, Storge (maternal/paternal) because, we simply don't see each other as our children. With that being said, any type of relationship, as pure and untainted as it is, has all of the potential to withstand the test of time and hardship. So, while our addictions in the past, have been from a lack of true connection, and deprivation of self-love, she and I have actually been able to grow from one another's addiction, given we each lacked different forms of nourishment. She is my soulmate, and I plan to spend my lifetime, giving her me, in my entirety, and accepting all that is her. We decided, we are healthy and good for each other. When you find, what we have, there is no higher love. Love is when two people, see the best, want the best, and make the best of what they have, in, for, and of each other.

Back to where I was... she readies her body for the arrival of mine. I push her hair up, and my lips find the crest of the nape of her neck. I gently bestow, moist kisses to that area, and slowly enough to give her goosebumps. Talk about setting the scenery. It's raining outside, and the waves are crashing into the shoreline. A heavy cloud sets over my house, shading the room, just so... and she feels me, waiting right at the cusp of acceptance. I make her wait. She continues to push herself into me, and I watch her quiet fight, for affection, but I won't give it to her. That's the beauty of us. We both want it, more than we've ever wanted anything. But we always keep it interesting, and exciting. "Maybe I'll be the cocktease." I say, letting myself poke her, then pull back. "You love it, when I make you ache... when I starve you out. I can feel your pussy muscles twitching."

"Hmmm." She bites her lip in frustration, and her moan syncopated to my sigh. So, I nibble her ear, softly, sensually. Her back arches more, and I feel her ass poking my abs. She knows my dick, loves how her ass feels against me. "Stop teasing." She speaks, in a low sexy voice.

"Stop, making it so hard to wake up next to you, and remain a gentleman." And now, I'm lost in a lustful trance. My mouth finds her back, and I start kissing it, biting it, licking it, and making sure my mouth gives her the kind of attention, she deserves. My palms lock in on the backs of her hands while my fingers intertwine in hers. Her back arched, deeper, her backside raises higher, her muscles tense, her pussy aches, and when she's the most vulnerable, I plunge inside of her wet euphoria.

"Oh baby." She moans into the pillow, and the moment I'm inside of her, I'm sharing the space with the sweet nectar she's filled with.

"Gimme some of that honey, baby. Make it wet for daddy."

"Oh God. Damon... please." She loves when I talk dirty. I grip her hands tighter, hitting it from the back. I feel myself, digging downward, and it's the best way to hit those depths, but, she knew I was weakening her, so she tried to close and bend her legs.

"No." I pushed them straight, and plunged again. Her body was my home, and she proved it to me. She used those thighs, raising her ass, and shook it from right to left, in a jiggle motion, and I felt it jiggle onto my abs, and when she does that with her ass, it drives me crazy. Then she allowed her body from that position, to pump up and down on me, and I swear she was a stripper in a former life. When she does this, I look down at her ass, while it makes a snack of my manhood, and she's so beautiful. In every way. I allow this controlled torture for a few minutes, before smacking her ass firmly, and sternly telling her to, "Turn over. I wanna watch your face, when it hits you." Slowly she gives me exactly what I want without removing me from her body. I'm simply amazed at the sheer will of this woman.

When our eyes meet again, she smiles, like an angel. I can't stop being fixated on her right now.

"Bring your body here." She whispers, watching my abs struggle to patternize my breathing again. I'm always eager to put my sweaty chest against hers. Feel her heartbeat, and her breasts against me... she's my better half.

I lower my body to her, and we look each other in the eyes. We both love this. We are fully connected and she's reading me and I'm reading her, and nothing, and no one matters but us, right now. We breath each other's air, and complete each other's thoughts during sex. "Baby, your body is everything." I tell her, when she palms my back, and lets the heels of her feet, hug my thighs, before she uses them to pull me closer.

"Tell me more..."

"I never want this to end, Bonnie. You're my everything."

She closed her eyes, and squeezed me harder. I just watch her, because I know how connected Bonnie feels by my actions and words. Sex, for Bonnie, is love. It's breathing, it's need, it's fulfillment. She is the most honest during sex. Even if she doesn't speak all of the time, her body tells me what she does and doesn't like. What she will and won't accept, what she wants, needs, and desires. Everything about Bonnie is communicated to me, this way. I know when she's having a bad day, her best day, an emotional day, or even, a good day. Her body communicates everything me.

And I understand her, because she is my drug. She is my addiction. Pleasing Bonnie, making Bonnie happy, is my happiness. "I feel you getting close baby."

"Damon, oh God, more, more... please." I thrust, and take her breast in my mouth, and she tenses up. "Baby! Kisses, I need kisses." Her toes dig into my legs, and that means her body can't control the orgasm that's about hit, even if she's trying her hardest. I slow down, and hold myself inside of her as deep as I possibly can. "Your cock, oh my god, your fucking cock, is paralyzing me!" she screams. This makes her pause, and when I feel her chest collapse, I dig, fiercely, forcing her screams of pleasure. If she wants me to kiss her through it, she squeezes my ass, and If she can't catch her breath she clenches my shoulders, and that's when whisper in her ear.

"Give me it baby. Let that pussy tremble, and cum for me."

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuck." Then her pussy clenches my dick, and that signals me to let go of everything in those moments, and we both explode simultaneously, and she feels it, because she sighs, when she feels me fill her up, and hold her body like she's a life raft. She saves me and I save her, and we both live to see another day.

Breathing for minutes deeply, and she says it first, "I love you, so much."

And her honesty carries over for a while after sex. Although she's honest always, her raw, honesty and emotions are so giving, and real during sex and right after. I normally tell her I love her right back, but today, I whistled out for my boy. Zozo, runs to the bed. He jumps up and she screams. "Damon, why'd you whistle for him? You know I hate him to see us like this..." I just stare at her quietly. And she thinks I'm crazy. "Zozo, down! Damon, he's watching us." She keeps staring at me confused. I pull my body off of hers, and remain quiet, and she turns towards Zozo, and she tries to shoe him off the bed. I get my courage together, and when she grabs his collar, she looked confused. "What the hell?" She looked at the object around his neck.

A necklace

With a ring tied around it.

She stops and pulls it off. "Zozo... Oh my Go-" she looks at me

One white rose in my mouth, cheesy and totally unexpected. "Bonnie Bennett..."

"Damon-" she shakes her head, and looks at the necklace, when I take it from her hands, and hand her the rose. I start to undo the clasp, and pull the ring off. "What the hell?" She starts to cry.

"I never, want this to end, Bonnie. Ever. A year ago you moved next door to me, and I waited for you my whole life. I don't want anyone else. And I promise, to give you me, fully. For the rest of my life. You're all I've ever wanted in a woman. And my life, is meaningless without you. I've loved you since before I knew you. And will love you until the day I die. Will you, marry me?"

I slid the beautiful, yet simple band on her finger. When her hand covered her mouth, she just nodded her head, and wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me. We never stopped kissing. "Yes." Kiss. "Yes." Kiss. "A hundred times yes." She keeps kissing me. "I can't believe you."

"I can't believe us. This is the happiest day of, right now?"

"Hell no." She lays me back, and this time... she reminded me, of how we got here. She enables me. And I'm perfectly okay with the fact that she's my enabler. I'll die with this addiction to her.

Two sex addicts. Looking for something more. Finding everything, in each other.

This is far more than sex... but the sex is still everything.

Forever started today, and you could've never told me... my life would've turned out, like this.

* * *

 **THE END!**

 **Everything happened in this chapter, all emotions, I hope were rightfully accounted for; from happy, to sad, to angry, to joyful. So, I know there were some errors that slipped right past me. Please be gentle. Thx for reading! Hoping you liked this story :)**


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